


As Dark Plans of Vengence Take Place

by gracie_and_kat_7



Series: A War to Fight Between All Gods [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Between Draco and Harry, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, can't think of any more tags, no beta we die like men, oh yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie_and_kat_7/pseuds/gracie_and_kat_7
Summary: After his winter break, Harry returns to the Greek Demigods School for Survival for his fourth year of school there, where new mysteries start to appear to him. Why is Draco Malfoy more beautiful than ever, and why is Mr. Riddle making friends with the boy? What is Mr. Riddle up to, and more importantly, why does Cedric Diggory keep getting in the goddamned way?)-(Just letting you guys know, we update every Thursday
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: A War to Fight Between All Gods [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823992
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all of you, this is our first fanfic ever, we hope you like it! We will put the trigger warnings in the notes when it is relevant. Just some info if parts of it confuses you, in this universe, all gods of all religions exist and there are schools all over the world for each religion or mythology. The camp is now a camp and a school where it teaches survival along with the basic necessities, and they have the option of staying over the summer and winter. Students can arrive early to the camp, but it becomes mandatory for what would be their sixth grade year. Thank you guys again for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all of you, this is our first fanfic ever, we hope you like it! We will put the trigger warnings in the notes when it is relevant. Just some info if parts of it confuses you, in this universe, all gods of all religions exist and there are schools all over the world for each religion or mythology. The camp is now a camp and a school where it teaches survival along with the basic necessities, and they have the option of staying over the summer and winter. Students can arrive early to the camp, but it becomes mandatory for what would be their sixth grade year. Thank you guys again for reading!

_ 1846 _

_ During the summer of his 17th year _

_ A son of Hermes will appear _

_ Lightning mark upon his face _

_ As dark plans of vengeance take place _

_ A war to fight between all gods _

_ Shall place the entire world at odds _

_ And the son of the dead shall lay at rest _

_ The frightful end for all he detests _

  * _Unknown Author_



)-(

A small paper was found on the edge of London, just floating about in the wind. The man who found it didn’t know what to do, so he brought it to his friend. This friend traveled to a place where he once attended school, all the way over in America, New York to be precise. There he handed it off to the werewolf who taught him there, along with some chocolate for the troubles. And there upon Half-Blood Hill, the prophecy was kept, seeping it’s way into the modern world and taking hold, for in less than two hundred years,a massive battle would take place, forever shaping the way all people saw the world. 

Decades after the paper was found, in Edinburgh, Scotland lived a small boy. Looking at this boy, you wouldn’t notice anything peculiar about him. He wasn’t tall or short, just average height. He was rather skinny, had glasses, and wore loose, baggy clothes. But when you looked closer, you would see the bruises, making his lovely tan skin, dull with purple and yellow pigment. The relatives he lived with, his aunt and uncle, saw him as a burden and a nuisance, so he was beaten and berated on a regular basis. This was perhaps the one extraordinary thing about him. Well, that and perhaps the lightning shaped scar above his right eyebrow.

He was excited when he got his acceptance letter to Greek Demigods School of Survival, because it was a year round school. He didn’t have to go home, except during the winter. Finally he would be free.

This boy is named Harry Evans and he was the son of a god. The greek god of thieves, Hermes, to be exact. Now he walks through the doors of his school into a new life.

Along the way, Harry met many new people, both friends and enemies. He met Ron, a son of Demeter, whose mother visited him and his six siblings often. He was tall, had red hair and freckles, with a sunny disposition but quick, practical wit. He also met Hermione, a daughter of Athena. She was short, with bushy hair that overtook her entire head, some slight buck teeth, and gorgeous dark skin that looked almost golden in the sun. She was extremely smart on paper, but was a bit dense when it came to social skills. These two people quickly became his closest friends and confidants. However, there was one other person that made a significant impression on Harry. His name was Draco, son of Persephone. Harry didn’t know much about him, but the tall, thin, platinum blonde boy seemed to always be alone. Well not alone, he hangs out with the Hades and Persephone kids, but they rarely spoke to others outside of those houses. Harry didn’t trust that group and didn’t associate with them, so Draco remained out of sight and out of mind. Well, at least until the story begins.


	2. Chapter One

Harry looked at the field as they arrived at their seats. He was watching an American football game with Ron and his family. He may have had no idea what all the people on the field were doing or how the points are scored, but he was happy to be here and not with his aunt and uncle back home. The players were off to the sides, the game ready to begin with the next half hour, and the fans were all excited, tension rising in the air. 

“Harry, do you want anything to eat, maybe some crisps or a drink? Ginny is going to go get some snacks right now,” Arthur, Ron’s father asked.

“Yes please, just pick out anything for me.”

He turned his head back to the field, looking about all the people. He couldn’t believe he was actually here, and that the Dursley’s believed that school started up so early again. 

Ron started to explain the rules, talking about touchdowns, quarterbacks, fumbles, and whatnot, but Harry still could not make sense of it all. All he could see was a bunch of men crashing into each other. 

Ginny, Ron’s younger sister, comes back with the snacks. She tosses her brothers Fred and George their bags of crisps absentmindedly, because she obviously couldn’t care less about those two. She actually hands Ron his bag, but still absentmindedly. Then she gives Harry his bag. She turns to look at him and freezes. She looks terrified, her eyes the size of the moon and her face as red as her hair. She shoves the crisps at him and quickly runs to her seat. 

“Hey Ron, are you sure Ginny doesn’t hate me?” Harry whispered discreetly.

“Trust me, mate, Gin could never hate ya,” Ron replied with his mouth full. They continued to watch the game, seeing the Jets take the slow lead, with the Giants right on their tails. “Besides,” he swallowed, “If she did, there would have been something you did to her. I mean, she doesn’t even hate Malfoy, and he’s a right git, that he is.”

Eventually the first half of the game is over. Harry and the Weasleys get up and walk around, stretching their legs and checking out what's being sold. Ron buys a football with the Jets logo and tosses it to Harry. The strange, oval shaped ball utterly confuses Harry. How does someone throw the ball? Does the shape make it harder to catch? What if someone dropped it and it bounced everywhere? Ron noticed Harry’s confusion and walked over to explain.

“So you grab it like this” Ron said as he guided Harry in throwing it. “Nice and tight, on the seam there, yeah like that, then lift it up and back, no farther back, thrust your hand forward, and let go!” 

Unfortunately, when Harry released the ball, Ron was still next to him, so Harry had just flung the ball randomly in a stadium full of people and had probably just lost the ball. Harry was about to apologize when he noticed someone catch the ball. He was a tall young man with glossy brown hair, shining grey eyes, and beautiful features that made him look similar to that of an elf, that is if they existed.

“Hey guys, is this yours?” He asked, his voice bright and clear.

“Um, yeah, uh, do we know you?” asked Ron.

“Yeah, I’m actually a counselor at the camp, I’m Diggory, Cedric Diggory,” he quipped. When they didn’t laugh, he said it was just a joke. “I’m sorry, this is awkward, I just, like, recognized you guys, and I’m only here with my father, so I figured I would see If I knew  _ someone _ around here. The game’s quite boring, actually.”

Silence ensued.

“Um, you’re Harry Evans, right? I’m not talking to the wrong people, am I?”

Harry snapped out of the small daze he got from looking at the other boy. “Uh, yeah, I am. You’re fine, mate.” Harry just laughed and rubbed his neck, looking awkwardly off to the side. Cedric, however, looked unfazed and eager to talk.

“So, um, you’re from Scotland, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, so do I, do you play any sports?” Cedric asked. “I do, if you’re wondering. Football, actually, real football. Not this fluke of a sport they call football.” Harry laughed. “They look like a bunch of drunks just flailing about, knocking into everything.”

“Yeah mate, I do. Centre forward. What about you?” Harry asked, his interest in Cedric slowly growing. “Same as you, actually.” Cedric replied.

“Harry, the game’s about to start any minute!” Ron called out.

“Uh, see you later Cedric.”

“You too, Harry.”

Harry watched as Cedric jogged off to join his father. No matter how awkward this run in with Cedric was, Harry still managed to enjoy it. Cedric always managed to put a smile on everyone’s face.

The game soon finished, with the Jets barely scoring higher than the Giants after overtime. He and the Weasleys left the stadium and began to drive home. Harry had ended falling asleep in the van while everyone else chattered about. As he drifted off into a dreamless sleep, he wondered if the rest of the year was going to be as boring as that game.

)-(

The school looked as beautiful and rustic as Harry left it. The cabins surrounded by the vast forest, with the school off at the base of the woods, with the Big House looming over everything else. He quickly spotted Hermione walking out of her cabin, wrangling her braids up into a bun. 

“Mione!” he cried, then ran over to give his other best friend a tight hug. “Oof - Harry! It’s only been a month, my gods!”

“Who cares? You know you’ve missed me. Probably stuck around this place all alone with no one but Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius and Tom,” Harry says, hugging her tighter.

“Ew no! They’re boring old teachers, and Tom’s a weirdo!” says Hermione as she finally manages to shove Harry off of herself.

“Maybe, but you love sucking up to them.” He laughed as he stumbled off of her. “Anyway, we have to go see Ron, he probably missed you more than I did!” He slung an arm around her shoulders and dragged her off. 

Hermione blushed lightly, with it escaping Harry’s notice. “Did he, really?” “Why Hermione, did you miss Ron more than you missed me?” Harry pouted. “No, just surprised he actually cared when he didn’t have any paperwork to do.” 

They walked towards the Demeter cabin, with its small garden in the front and its roof covered in grass. They couldn’t see Ron from where they were.

“Do you think he-” Harry began.

“Fell asleep? Of course he did” said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

Harry and Hermione walked inside the cabin. It was a nice place, filled with natural light and plenty of space, unlike the Hermes cabin. Harry did find it strange that the floor is grass and that a tree grows in the middle of the cabin. In the far back of the cabin, a few feet from the bathroom, was Ron, snoring in his bunk. 

Without hesitation, Hermione pulled out a water bottle and dumped its contents directly onto his face. Ron woke up so violently that Harry was scared that he’d knock his bunk over.

“Wha-w-wha-what the bloody hell?!” he screamed. Then Ron looked up, saw his friends, and noticed the empty bottle in Hermione’s hand. “Nice to see you too, Mione”.

“Hi. Now come on our you’ll be late for class”. Hermione said as she quickly walked out of the cabin, her blush barely noticeable. “And get dressed!”

They started to walk over to the Big House, where they would soon get that semester’s schedule. Inside the Big House stood Mr. Sirius Black, the sword fighting instructor. Everyone loved him, as he was the only laid back teacher that was actually helpful. He had shoulder length black hair, calming grey eyes, and a personality that could only be described as chill. When every cabin was outside, he started handing out the schedules, going from the Big Three cabins down to the minor gods’ cabins. When they were all passed out, he gave them an hour to figure out their schedules and get to their classes in time. 

“So what’d ya got first, guys?” asks Ron “I got sword fighting.” “I got maths with, ooh, I got Tom as my teacher!” Hermione shuddered in disgust. “Wait, they teach maths here? Come on!” groaned Ron. “They’ve always taught maths here, Ron, you’ve just never attended classes.” Ron paused, looking very confused. “Well whatever. How ‘bout you Harry?” “Uhhh I got sword fighting, too.” Harry and Ron exchanged high fives.

They started over to their classes, parting when Harry and Ron arrived at the Arena. They stopped to talk to Luna and Neville. Luna was a quirky, soft spoken child of Iris, and Neville was a quite timid, clumsy son of Zues. Luna, with their long blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to see things that others didn’t, didn’t really fit in with other people. However, Harry and his friends discovered how kind and interesting they were if they felt that they were a friend. Then there was Neville. He may have been the son of Zeus, but no one could believe it. He was short and wide, had clammy ashen skin, and small blue eyes that gave away how frightened he was of everything. However, he was very kind, and was always happy to be a shoulder to cry on whenever it was needed.

“Wotcher Harry, how was your winter?” Neville asked.

“Better than every year before, the Dursleys let me out early so I spent the rest of it with the Weasleys.”

“Oh that’s great! I’m glad you got out early!”

They continued off to their classes, and Harry and Ron entered the Arena, talking of trivial things.

Draco Malfoy stood in the middle of the room, hacking away at a dummy, almost gracefully if not for the tensions between his shoulders as his body moved about. Angry red lines covered the small part of his chest they could see, and trailed off onto his arms. Sweat glistened in his white - blonde hair as he decapitated the dummy. Harry didn’t realize he was staring until Ron tapped him on the shoulder.

“You alright, mate?” he asked. “We’re about to start.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He tore his eyes away from the blonde and started towards the center, picking up his own blade. He and Ron trained for a bit until Mr. Black showed up. He held his fingers up to his mouth and gave a loud whistle, which made everyone quiet down.

“Alright everyone, listen up! You lot haven’t been in this arena since the middle of December, so I’m guessing some of you forgot the rules, like where you have to have an instructor before you pull out a sword.” He looks back at Draco and his mutilated dummy. “But no matter. I’m going to split you into pairs and have you duel.” He started to split them into pairs, with Ron ending up with some Aphrodite kid, Draco with Blaise Zabini, and himself with Pansy Parkinson. Pansy, being a daughter of Hades, was not friendly with anyone but members of her cabin and Persephone’s cabin. However, she was different in the fact that she seemed to go out of her way to torment some of the other students, namely Neville. She was also rather tall and strong, so Harry knew he would have a tough time in this match.

On Mr. Black’s command, each student picked up a sword. A clang could be heard across the arena as Neville dropped his, followed by snickering from the Hades/Persephone crowd. He blushed, embarrassed and soon everyone focused on their own sparring partner. Harry walked up to Parkinson, offering out the hand like he’d seen others do. Pansy just snorted and grabbed it mockingly, tossing it away after a second.

“Ok, get ready. . . fight!” 

The students started swinging away, with some being quickly incapacitated and others being evenly matched. Minutes passed, each person getting more and more exhausted until only Harry and Parkinson, an Ares girl and Hephaestus boy, and Draco and Zabini were left. They all fought quite vigorously, none slowing as time went on. Then Draco did a spinning move, using the force of his body to catch Zabini off guard, then got his sword up under his chin, tilting it. Harry’s face felt hot and as his eyes strayed a bit too long from his own fight, which Pansy noticed immediately. She quickly knocked the sword out of his hand and smacked him in the face with the flat of her blade, sending him sprawling on the floor. 

“Do you yield Mr. Evans,” she drawled out, looking at him under her lashes that could almost seem flirtatious, but the look was undercut with a malicious glint, as if keeping a dangerous secret. Her every edge was sharp and tensed, as if she would actually attack if he didn’t step down.

“Yeah, ok, I yield.” Harry got up, brushing off his shorts, then went to go sit down next to Ron.

“Blimey Harry, you got one of the snakes to make you yield,” he whispered excitedly. 

“I lost focus, I could take her in a real fight if I wasn’t distracted.”

“And what were you distracted by Mr. Evans,” Pansy called out. Next to her was Draco, pulling up his shirt to wipe away his sweat. Harry looked away with a blush. 

“Nothing.” Harry looked away. He didn’t know what was wrong with himself. “How’d you do mate?”

“Dude, I stepped towards the bloke and he dropped the damn sword. Aphrodites, am I right?” “Yeah, speaking of, I was wondering, is Cedric and Aphrodite kid?” Ron looked puzzled. “Dunno mate, he’s pretty but only if you’re more into blokes than birds.” 

They watched as the Hephaestus kid tire out and eventually was defeated by the Ares girl. When they both took a seat, Mr. Black came back out to assess their work.

“Well done everyone, well done! I see some of you have been practicing over the break” he says as he winks to the girl from Ares. “And some of you obviously didn’t” he says as he glances at Ron’s opponent, who obviously couldn’t care less, and Neville, who was turning bright red. “Mr. Longbottom, would you care to join me please?” Someone snickered, as people always do when Neville’s name is mentioned. He stood up slowly and shuffled forward towards the teacher.

“Thank you. Now everyone, I noticed some mistakes in your form, most of which Neville demonstrated during his spar. So Neville, get into position, please?” Neville did so, and Mr. Black made corrections, like straightening Neville’s back, raising his sword, lifting his chin, and more. Once that was done, Mr. Black swung his sword at Neville, who was now able to deflect the blow more easily.

“There you go, young man! Well done. Class dismissed!” he said. 

Harry and Ron both had maths next. They both walked to the class and prepared themselves to be bored.

)-(

Draco was bored out of his mind. Maths was never interesting as it was, but Mr. Riddle seemed to make the whole class slow down, and if he wasn’t sure he wasn’t possessed, he would’ve thought that Kronos had taken over his body. It was an unfortunate essential that he couldn’t get out of, no pleading changing any of the adults’ minds. 

He walked across the lawn of the Big House to the small, slightly dilapidated cabin where maths class was held. Inside was the strange, silent teacher, Mr. Riddle. He was better known as Tom, or weirdo by his students. He might have been the son of Nemesis or something, but no one really cared. The rest of the campers started filling into the cabin and began to take their seats. When all the seats were filled, Mr. Riddle slowly stood up from behind his desk and began to address the class.

“Welcome back. I hope everyone had a pleasant break.” His voice was a low monotone. “This year we’ll be covering Algebra… again.” This earned quite a bit of groaning from the class, which earned a, “Yeah, yeah,” from Mr. Riddle.

None of the demigods, except maybe Hermione, enjoyed maths, but not even she could love a class taught by Mr. Riddle. Demigods usually had ADHD, so sitting still in a classroom is hard enough, but Mr. Riddle just worsens it by putting absolutely no effort into the class and rarely, if ever, offers to explain anything. Most of his students, including Draco, would rather have a picnic in the Fields of Punishment then spend a year here. At least then they would be able to do something.

As Mr. Riddle drawled on, several students began to snore. Mr. Riddle knew, of course, but he didn’t care. Draco barely managed to stay awake himself. That is until Mr. Riddle came to his desk, which he never did. Draco snapped to attention, as did the rest of the class. Mr. Riddle walking over to someone’s desk was the most interesting thing they had ever seen him do. 

“Mr. Malfoy, could I talk to you after class, please?” He whispered this to not embarrass Draco, but it was a small cabin and the desks were very close together, so naturally everyone heard. Snickers could be heard from all corners of the classroom, which were never heard before anywhere near Mr. Riddle’s class. Draco could feel his ears getting hot.

“All right, calm down,” Mr. Riddle said and immediately everyone quieted down. Then he continued with his lesson.

Draco was very nervous. Sure, he had been told to stay after class before; sometimes a demigods’ ADHD flared up at the worst moments. However, staying after school with Mr. Riddle was the last thing he wanted to do. Zabini from the Hades cabin told him that Mr. Riddle goes out hunting mortals every Saturday. Even though Draco knew he was lying, the rumors did spark suspicion. The way his black eyes flickered around the classroom reminded him of a cat trying to catch a mouse. Just like a cat, Mr. Riddle seemed laid back, but Draco didn’t want to see if he’d ever pounce. 

After the long lecture, the class was finally over. Well, for everyone except Draco. His heart pounded as he looked around for the knife Zabini once swore he saw Mr. Riddle holding, a curved, black blade made from Stygian iron. He couldn’t see it, and he doubted that it was real, but he was still scared. He stood up as Mr. Riddle walked over to his desk. Standing directly in front of him, Draco saw just how tall his teacher was. He was also not unattractive, for a teacher. His thick black hair, darker than his eyes, seemed to shine in the light. Though he was thin, Draco could tell by his teacher’s broad shoulders that he must have been strong. 

“Hello Draco. I know this may seem strange for me to ask you to stay, but I’ve noticed that you seem rather down lately. I was wondering if anything happened recently?” Draco was surprised by the genuine amount of emotion in his teacher’s voice. The only emotion in his teacher’s voice usually was exhaustion. 

“Um, no sir. I’m rather alright.”

“Now, Draco, don’t lie to me. Trust me, you can tell me anything.” Draco glanced down at his arms, hoping he was about to make the right decision.

“Promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

“Even Dumbledore, or any of the other teachers. They can’t know.” Draco said with worry. He was afraid of what they might do if they found out.

“I promise. No other living soul will ever know about this without your permission.”

Draco was still scared. He looked around the room nervously for a few moments, wondering if telling Mr. Riddle would help him in any way. 

“How’s this, I’ll tell you something, and in return, you tell me something. It can be anything you want. I want you to feel comfortable with me here, and I want you to trust that this is a safe space for you.” Mr. Riddle’s voice had taken a soothing quality to it, making Draco feel calm, which was a passing fancy outside in the real world.

“Oh. . . alright. Um, what should I tell you.”

“Anything you want, my boy.”

“Uh, ok. Well, my name is Draco Malfoy, and I’m a son of Persephone.” Draco laughed at the small bit of trivial information he gave out.

“My name is Tom Riddle, and I’m a son of Nemesis.” He gave out a small chuckle as well. “What else.”

“Well, um, I don’t like maths class, or any maths class, rather. The subject is rather boring to me.” Draco looked off to the side a little, worried he just offended his teacher.

“Draco, nobody likes maths class, much less my maths class.”

They both laughed at that, the tension releasing slowly with every small fact given.

“Ok, I’ll go this time,” Mr. Riddle said. “I actually rather be teaching something else, something more useful than this. I mean, when will you use maths to help kill a wayward harpy, or protect an average mortal.” They both laughed, and Draco felt more at ease with his teacher. He glanced at the small clock on the wall, and nearly gasped at the time. It had been 20 minutes since class let out, and he was supposed to be at his next class. 

“Oh my gods, I’m late for my next class!” Draco was worried that his next teacher was going to be upset. 

“Draco, calm down, I’ll send you with a note. Might be a bit more discreet than an Iris message,” he winked as he started to write out a small late pass. “It’s in Greek, so they won’t be confused.”

“Thank you Mr. Riddle, so much.” Draco paused. “Um, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to talk to you more. This was rather nice, none of my friends like to talk about anything other than gossip, really.”

Mr. Riddle smiled. “Of course, my boy. My door is always open, so feel free to walk in at any time. Except for, you know, after nine p.m., don’t want you to be eaten by the harpies, now do we?”

Draco smiled. “No we don’t. Thank you again, Mr. Riddle.”

“Of course. Now run along, you don’t need to be any later than you already are.”

Draco waved and started to jog off. The encounter with Mr. Riddle was. . . nice. It was actually nice to have someone worry. He thought about telling Blaise and Pansy, but stopped the idea. He didn’t know what they might want to know about it, and Mr. Riddle didn’t need any more trouble than Draco was already giving him, so he decided to keep these little conversations to himself. He couldn’t wait for the next one

.

)-(

At night, after every class and activity was over, the campers had dinner and then were sent to their cabins for bed. Harry walked through the doors of the Hermes cabin. It was small, old, a little smelly, and needed a paint job, but it was the best home he had ever known. He climbed up to his bunk and began to think, which was difficult since the cabin was filled with the most rowdy and silly kids in the camp. His thought mostly drifted to his sword fighting class, and how distracted he was. What was wrong with him, and what was he distracted by? Nothing besides the sparring had been going on, so he decided he must have been distracted by someone. Was it Pansy? No, definitely not. She was more scary than she was pretty, and she had been cruel to his friend Neville way too many times. The Ares girl? She was still fighting when the “slip up” happened, but she was simply terrifying, just like the rest of her cabin. Then a small part of his brain thought, ‘ _ What if it was Draco?’ _ For a moment Harry felt butterflies in his stomach. No, he decided. He never talked to Draco. Besides, Draco was a guy. He didn’t like guys, did he? Before he could answer that, a pillow hit him right in the face.

“C’mon Harry get up!” shouted one of his cabin mates “Join the battle!” His cabin had just started a massive pillow fight. They happened at least once a week, usually ended in an explosion or an injury, and always summoned a counselor to the scene to shut it down. In fact, these pillow fights were why the Hermes cabin didn’t have dessert privileges for a month last year, when Neville randomly showed up and got knocked unconscious. 

The Hermes part of Harry’s brain took over. He immediately banished all thoughts of Draco, grabbed his pillow and a homemade smoke bomb, and prepared to have a blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!


	3. Chapter Two

A week had passed, with Draco coming in every day to spend a bit of his free time talking to Mr. Riddle. Their conversations were still trivial in some subjects, but at other times became a bit serious. He was more trusting of the 30 year old, and was truly starting to feel more safe in his classroom. He even looked forward to his maths class, not because he could talk to him, but even just being with him made him feel at ease. It was nice to have someone actually listen. Pansy and Blaise were becoming a bit suspicious, but what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. 

At the end of their conversation today, Draco began to walk towards the door. He was so happy he could talk to Mr. Riddle. He was able to tell him things he couldn’t tell anyone else, not even Blaise and Pansy, his best friends.

“Thank you for staying again, Draco. You have no idea how much I enjoy our chats.” Mr. Riddle said with a smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Riddle. I really like talking to you, too.” Draco said with a smile of his own.

“Please, call me Tom.” he said as he walked Draco out of the cabin, a hand gently placed on his shoulder. Once they got outside, they said their goodbyes.

“Have a nice day Draco!” Tom said as he waved goodbye,

“You too Mr. R- I mean Tom!” Draco was very happy. Tom was everything he could ever ask for in a friend. He was patient and kind, and always knew just what to say to cheer him up. He knew he had to keep this a secret, but Draco was sure Tom was now his best friend. Blaise and Pansy didn’t understand him like Tom did. No one did. He was sure he was the only one that understood how Tom felt, since everyone, including the teachers, saw Tom as a weirdo. Oh well, even if he couldn’t say it out loud, it felt good to have a best friend.

Just then, Draco caught a glimpse of something orange out of the corner of his eye. This wasn’t uncommon, since everyone had to wear their orange Camp Half Blood shirts during classes. He turned around, and saw the source of the orange was indeed a person wearing the shirt, but the orange he noticed was this person’s hair. What was his name? Rupert? Reggie? Oh Ronald! He was friends with that boy Pansy clobbered, Evans? Yeah that one. Draco didn’t know this Ronald since he mainly stayed with Pansy and Blaise, so he continued walking to his next class without stopping to say hi.

He hurried over to monster identifying, which was a class he happened to share with Ronald and Evans. It was rather exciting at times, with them being able to see what kinds of monsters they would be fighting, how to handle their strengths and exploit their weaknesses, at all ages. 

He hurried over to the larger, outdoor class and sat down. The teacher there was Mr. Hagrid, who was a rather tall and portly man, with wild hair that could rival Granger’s when it was down. 

“Ok class, so today we’re gonna be talkin’ chim’ras. I’m pretty sure you’ve all heard stories of ‘em,but today we’re gonna debunk some myths about them, and show ya how to properly kill them without getting badly hurt.”

Mr. Hagrid started to explain them, talking about what the mortals had told them, what was right and wrong, and how to kill them. 

“Now, I’m gonna have ya all split into teams of two, you could work alone ya wish, but I would prefer it to be a partner situation. Whatcha’ll gonna do is I’m gonna give ya a piece of paper, and it’s gonna have all the outside parts on one side, and all the inside parts on the other. Yer partner and you are gonna identify all the parts, then turn it in inside the actual room, and there I’ll give ya yer second assignment.”

Draco watched as people got up and gathered into small groups, staying by himself since he didn't have any friends in this class. He ended up close to Ronald, Granger, and Evans, their little group seeming a bit quieter amongst the loud chatter of the students. 

About 10 minutes into the assignments, he heard his name mentioned from nearby. Looking up, he saw it was Ronald, talking to the other two about him.

“-saw Malfoy coming out of his classroom, all smiles. You would think he had just snogged his little girlfriend senseless by the way he was looking.” His voice was taunting, his face condescending. “You know, I heard that the first day, he was asked to stay behind because he was that bad in class. Bet he was sucking the weirdo off for a better grade. Wouldn’t be surprised if he had sex with him too, or any other teacher for that matter.”

“Ron, just shut up, you know people can hear you, my gods!” scolded Hermione. “He wouldn’t do that, there’s too much on the line to risk it. Besides, I’m pretty sure all the teachers here have the integrity to turn any student down, even Mr. Riddle”

“No, I bet he begged for it, got down on his knees an-”

“Will all of you just shut it!” Draco nearly yelled. The group stopped and turned to him, all red faced.

“Look, just because your grades are already failing and the other teachers turned you down, doesn’t mean you need to project it onto me!” He stormed away, deciding to work inside where Mr. Hagrid was. He heard the whispers trail off after him but he ignored it. Draco had better things to do than worry about teenager gossip.

)-(

“What the hell was that for?” Ron whined. Hermione smacked him upside the head. “Well,” she began pointedly, “it may be because he overheard you making outrageous claims and maybe, just maybe, got offended and decided to retaliate by actually saying such things to your face and not behind your back. Just a thought.”

“Well he didn’t need to say it so loud,” Ron said as he pouted. “Wel, you didn’t need to say anything at all, now did you.” He cowered slightly under Hermione’s glare.

“It was rather dickish, mate,” Harry interjected. Ron looked back at him gobsmacked. “Great, now both of you are ganging up on me.” He threw his hands in the air then buried his face into his arms. “Can’t a poor bloke just joke around without some ferret-y git eavesdropping and my two best friends defending said git?” “Ferret-y?” “Yeah, he kinda looks like a ferret, you know, all pointy, kinda up-turned nose like he’s looking down on us.”

“Well, if you’re looking so closely at his face, are you sure you don’t want to be the one he sucks off for a grade,” Harry joked, but quickly winced under Hermione’s gaze.

“Both of you stop this instant, imagine if he could still hear us, he wouldn’t like it, like how you didn’t like getting a bit of your own medicine, Ron. Now stop, if I hear another word out of either of your mouths about this, I’ll get someone from Hecate to. . . to. . . I don’t know yet, but it’ll be bad.”

Harry and Ron just looked at each other before laughing. “If you say so Hermione.”They quickly finished up their work before turning it into Hagrid, noticing that Draco was no longer in the room.

“Uh, where is Malfoy, if you don’t mind me asking, sir?”

“Oh, ‘im? ‘E finished up both parts then left. I figured ‘e just went back to ‘is cabin since it’s the end of the day.”

Once they left Hagrid, Hermione called out to the boys, “Both of you are going to apologize to him at dinner, do you hear me?”

“Mione, I didn’t do anything!” Harry protested while Ron groaned. 

“You still said unflattering commentary behind his back, even when he wasn’t there. I don’t particularly care that he wasn’t there, both of you are going to apologize at dinner, and it better be meaningful.” She proceeded to storm off to her cabin to cool down a bit, leaving the two boys up to their devices. Honestly, she needed a break from them sometimes.

)-(

Draco burst into Mr. Riddle’s classroom, throwing his few belongings on a desk and started pacing. The teacher looked surprised, he had never seen Draco look so animated before. 

“Um, Draco, are you alri-?”

“No, I’m not bloody alright!” Draco exclaimed. He collapsed into the nearest desk. “Do you know Weasley?”

“Well, there’s seven of them, but I’m assuming you’re talking about Ronald?”

“Yes! Do you know what he said to me in the last class? He asked if I was blowing you for money! Why would he ever think that about me - about you?! It just doesn’t make sense.” Draco allowed his head to fall into his arms, hunched over and biting back tears.

“Um, wow. That was, um, something. If I may ask, you sound more upset about the fact that he thinks I’m soliciting you than him thinking of you as someone who would just sleep with any teacher.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he mumbled.

“Well, I guess what I’m asking is, why?” 

Draco turned away from Tom and began to stutter. “Well, I, uh, well it's just that-”

“Oh it's all right, I understand.” Tom stood up and began to walk towards his student. “I’m the weird teacher, the one no one likes. Everyone would find you strange if you did that with me.”

Draco relaxed a little. That wasn’t the reason Draco was thinking of, but at least it was an excuse. The real reason was that he saw his teacher as a close friend, the one person he could tell his secrets to. Anything - well almost anything. It felt wrong to have anyone think he would do that with his friend for money or a grade.

“Besides,” Mr. Riddle continued, “I’m sure a handsome young lad like you has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t want to be unfaithful.” He chuckled slightly at his own dark joke.

“Look, Mr. Ri-”

“Ah ah, Tom.”

“Tom,” he amended. “One, I’m about to say something to you I’ve never told anyone before; I’m gay. Two, I’m reacting this way because you’re honestly my best friend. No one has ever listened to me like this before, and you’ve not been acting like a therapist, no, You’re telling me about you as well. It’s, well, refreshing, to have that bond with someone.” His breath rushed out all at once, and he was almost high from the adrenaline of letting go of some of the weight on his shoulders. 

Tom blinked. “Well, um, let’s unpack this. First off, you’re gay?” Draco nodded. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I hope you know that I’m always going to be here for you, whether as a mentor or as a friend, I’ll always be here for you.” He patted Draco on the shoulder, making the boy look at him. The look was so earnest, that Draco just hugged Tom tightly, starting to tear up a bit. 

“Second off,” he said as they both withdrew from the embrace, “I’m your best friend?”

Draco blushed. “Well yeah, even my cabinmates don’t listen as well as you do, and I hardly know about their personal life, it’s mostly just gossip.”

“Well, Draco, I’m glad you trust me this much. If I must be honest, I believe you’re my best friend as well. I’ve had so few friends in my life. I’m glad I have you as one of them.” 

Just then the conch blew, scheduling the start of dinner. Draco had to get back to his cabin as fast as possible. “I gotta go. Goodbye Tom!” Draco said as he ran off. “Have a nice dinner, Draco!” Tom said, waving goodbye and walking back into his cabin.

Draco ran and made it to his cabin just as they were leaving for dinner. He found his friends Pansy and Blaise. They were talking about something, probably gossip they overheard from the Aphrodite cabin. Always gossiping, these two. They could never seem to stop. Draco couldn’t understand why. He didn’t care about what other people did, he had enough trouble with his own life.

“Oh Draco! When’d you get here?” asked Blaise, finally noticing Draco.

“Just now. I was busy.” Draco replied. He was a bit annoyed by them, but from how well his conversation with Tom had gone, he couldn’t care less about their actions. 

“Busy with what?” Pansy asked, looking suspiciously at Draco.

“Stuff.” was Draco’s reply. Pansy wasn’t satisfied, neither was Blaise, but they decided not to delve into it and go back to gossiping. Draco wasn’t ready to say that he was friends with Mr. Riddle just yet. These two were his two only other friends. He didn’t want them to think he was weird, too.

They arrived at the Dining Pavilion, where most of the other cabins were gathered. He sat down at the Persephone table while Blaise and Pansy sat at the Hades table. Thankfully, the two tables were very close to each other. The two cabins interacted so frequently that no one seemed to notice or care that they often combined the two tables. The Persephone and Hades kids were collectively referred to as “the Snakes”. No one knew why, but the name simply added to the suspicion surrounding the two cabins. They were the children of the gods of the Underworld, so naturally everyone thought they were evil. Sure, some of them made skeletons pop up or could shadow travel like a hellhound. That didn’t mean they would eat you like one. 

The spirits that served food brought Draco his plate, which had a piece of steak, medium rare, just as he liked it. For a drink, the spirit gave him some lemonade, his favorite drink. Before he started eating, he cut a chunk of steak off and sent it into the fire for his mother. He wasn’t sure if the gods really lived off of the smoke, but it sure did smell good. At least it was pleasant for the gods. He wondered if his mother could smell it in the Underworld. She was there now, as she was every fall and winter. What was the Underworld like? He imagined it was gloomy, dark, and cold, like the Hades cabin was. He had been invited there before by his friends and failed to see how they could live there. It was too depressing, and did anyone even think to open a window? Why did it have to be so dark?

Draco began to eat and talk to his friends. Blaise began to tell a story about what happened when he saw a hydra when he went hiking over the winter break. Blaise was known for making up crazy stories. The Harpies ate his socks, Hagrid smuggled Drakon eggs into Olympus during his spare time, Mr. Black was a part of a mortal street gang, and so on. The crazy thing was that some people actually believe him. As he was talking about how he heroically stabbed the hydra in the chest, Draco noticed a few girls from Persephone hanging onto every word. Why did his cabin mates have to be so gullible? Seriously, they were eating this up like the Aphrodites would.

Then Draco felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the same orange hair, the same freckles, and the same stupid boy that had spread rumors about him. Weasley. He had a lot of nerve coming over to his table after saying something like that. Draco was so angry that the shadows nearby began to ripple.

“Hey there… uh Draco.” Ron said quietly. Ron never really liked Draco, so he obviously didn’t want to speak to him, and wouldn’t have if Hermione hadn’t threatened to stab him in the foot after dinner if he didn’t. “I, uh, wanted to say I’m sorry for saying, uh” he looked at the other members of the group slowly acknowledging that Ron was there “well you know.” Draco wasn’t surprised to hear an apology. He had very clearly been offended by this, so he hoped Ronald felt bad. 

“You’re a git. Go away,” Draco said as calmly as possible. This was code in the Hades/Persephone group. If someone delivered an insult or demanded for someone to do something calmly, it was very serious. Conversations near Draco ended and all the campers turned towards Ron, waiting for him to do something. Ron saw all the Snakes turn towards him, silent as the grave and made the smart choice.

“Fine,” he said as he walked away slowly. Draco still felt mad, though so he quickly conjured up some pomegranate seeds in Weasley’s soup. Good luck slurping those down. A few minutes later Draco heard someone spitting and cursing. It worked! Blaise gave him a high five. Draco was now calmer, so the nearby shadows went still again.

The powered demigods of Persephone’s heritage are quite strange and different from other demigods. Most gods pass one or more attributes onto their children, like Apollo’s children could be healers, musicians, archers, and/or manipulate light. For Persephone’s children, each has the same set of abilities. They are each given the limited ability to manipulate plants, conjuring Asphodel and pomegranates on command without effort. The strange part of their powers, however, comes with each changing season. 

During Spring, their control over plants grows, so that their powers rival those of Demeter’s children. During Summer, they gain limited control over light. During Fall, they gain limited control over the wind. During Winter, they gain full control over shadows and lose most of their nature powers. During this season, which happens to be now, they can only summon pomegranates or Asphodel trees. Persephone is the reason for the changing of seasons, so the coming and going of seasons is a special time for all of her children, including Draco. He has little use of his plant powers, so he prefers winter to all other months, where he feels his powers are strongest. He’s even begun to learn how to shadow travel from Pansy. He loves how in control his winter powers make him feel, especially now as he uses them to prank that stupid git Weasley.

This continued to happen every dinner for the next few days, all with Weasley getting increasingly angry. It came to a head about a week after the apology.

“Ok, I am sick and tired of having pomegranate seeds in my food! I even tried just getting pomegranate seeds as a side, and you lot just kept adding to the pile! Well, this stops now!”

Draco stood. “Weasley, first off, it wasn’t my lot, it was just me, so don’t get your knickers in a twist thinking you have both cabins coming after you, you just have me. Second, who are you to tell me to stop, it’s not my fault my powers are going haywire.” He said that last part with such an innocent face that if his voice wasn’t so obviously mocking, everyone watching would believe it. 

“You know what, I was right about you,” Ron grinned cruelly. “You’re probably sick and twisted in that little mind of yours, that when someone apologizes, you feel the need to lash out. What, did daddy not give you enough love, did mummy not visit often? Did that weirdo decide that he would give you that lost affection for some private affection?” Ron made vulgar gestures with his body, letting the implication sink into everyone watching. 

“That’s why you didn’t accept my apology, isn’t it? Because you know that you and him are fucking, and you know that is so twisted and perverted, but you don’t really care. You just need to make sure we don’t catch onto your little secret. What’s next, are you going to start selling out your mouth - ”

What Weasley hadn’t realized until that moment was that flowers of the dead were sprouting all around him, with pomegranate seeds filling everyone’s plates, overflowing. It wasn’t visible all too much, but small shadows were rolling off Draco like black smoke, growing in volume as Weasley continued his taunt. He only stopped when he noticed the asphodel flowers weaving around his legs like vines, almost trying to hold him there, while more flowers grew up to try to get his hands. 

When he finally saw Draco’s face, his own changed into something akin to fear. The thunderous expression he expected wasn’t there, only a murderous calm that made him fear for what may happen next. The blonde boy’s posture was stiff, tension filling out every muscle, but his face was relaxed, as if almost in a trance. Even his cabinmates looked shocked.

“Now now, Ronald, we both know your accusations aren’t true. Why would I feel the need to whore myself out for a grade. Grades aren’t everything you know, I’m 14, I don’t need to worry about this shit. I also don’t need the extra affection, I’m fine with how my life is.” He paused.

“You’re projecting onto me, aren’t you.” he said not as a question, but a statement.

“You’re number six in a house of seven children, all your mother’s and father’s. They don’t have enough time to extend all of their love onto every single sibling, and you’re the odd one out. Both of your older brothers have graduated, and they’re off on quests every month, whilst you haven’t received a single one. Percy over here is excelling at his school work, more than you have ever academically. The twins are more creative and fun than you will ever be, and Ginerva is their only girl. Now where does that leave you?”

During his tirade, Weasley’s face had become red and his eyes filled with tears as Draco hit right on the mark. He wasn’t special, he was the weakest link in his whole family. The only thing extraordinary about him was that he was friends with Harry Evans, the boy in the prophecy. When Draco’s voice stopped, he looked at the ground, willing the tears not to fall from his eyes. He waited a couple minutes before ripping out of the flowers and taking off towards his cabin.

Draco finally snapped out of his trance, and his powers ceased. He noticed that everyone was looking at him, even Blaise and Pansy, with great fear in their eyes. He felt guilty, but covered that in his usual mask of indifference. Then, without saying another word, he calmly walked off towards his cabin. He needed to calm down, and talking it out at the moment wasn’t going to help. 

)-(

Harry was terrified. What just happened? Ron came back after apologizing to Malfoy looking slightly on edge a few days ago, so he knew Ron botched up on the apology. He wasn’t really sorry for it. Then Ron had gotten pomegranate seeds in his food every meal, which could only have come from a Persephone or Demeter kid, and Ron didn’t have a quarrel with a Demeter kid. Harry knew Draco was doing this, but he was pretty sure it was Ron’s fault. He was always telling jokes, and sometimes those jokes were hurtful to others. 

One fateful night, their conflict came to a head. Ron had taken a sip of his soup and immediately spit it out. Sure enough, there were pomegranate seeds in it. Ron cursed and called Draco out on it, adding plenty of colorful insults about Draco’s family and the alleged relationship with Mr. Riddle. The next thing Harry knew, Draco was glowing black, pomegranate seeds covered everyone’s plates, and Ron had stormed off. What just happened and why did Ron just storm off? It wasn’t like him at all. Harry signaled Hermione over and together they walked over to the Demeter cabin. They heard someone crying softly as they stood outside the door. 

“I think I’ll stay outside,” whispered Hermione. She may have been the smartest demigod in the camp, but when it came to difficult social situations like this, she was clueless. Harry nodded and knocked on the door. The crying stopped immediately, followed by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Come in,” said Ron. 

They walked inside the cabin. Ron hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on, so it was dark inside. Even in the dark, Harry could tell that he had been crying. He was sniffling and hiccuping out of control and he wouldn’t meet Harry’s gaze. Not knowing what to do, Harry just sat next to Ron in his bunk. They sat there awkwardly for a minute before Ron began to cry again.

“Bloody- bugger- was right,” he sniffled. “My family- doesn’t care- worthless,” then Ron sobbed so hard that he couldn’t be understood. Harry didn’t know what to say. From his perspective, the Weasley family showed love to each and every member of their family. Harry’s only other experience was with his own, and they hated him, so maybe he didn’t know what he was talking about, but he knew Ron meant a lot to them, even if they didn’t show it all the time. 

“No it's not true Ron,” said Harry as he gave his friend a tight hug. “They need you. It’d kill them if they lost you. Malfoy’s just bein’ a jerk.” 

Ron continued sobbing for a few more minutes. Harry didn’t let him go until he was finished. When Ron finally was, he sat up and wiped his eyes and nose. Then he looked embarrassed.

“Thanks mate. Would you mind not telling Hermione ‘bout this?” Ron asked.

“Don’t worry. She already knows!” said Hermione from outside the cabin.

“Damn it”

Harry sat there laughing. After a while so did Ron. Hermione came in to see what the noise was.

“All better? It’s time for the campfire,” she said. Ron stood up.

“Not yet. That little weasel is gonna pay for this, and I know just the way to make him,” said Ron, walking out of the cabin with newfound determination. Harry and Hermione had no idea what was going on, but they followed their friend to the campfire. They both shared confused looks. Ron refused to tell them anything yet. Whatever was about to happen, Harry knew that Ron would need his help, and he was willing to be there for his crazy, amazing friend.

They arrived at the campfire. Everyone was singing songs and roasting marshmallows over the campfire, which was bright blue and about ten feet high tonight. The flame adjusts to the mood of the campers, so people definitely had high spirits tonight. Harry saw Draco sitting with the tall girl who had beaten him in sword fighting, Parkinson, and another member of the Snakes. His name was Blake or something. Ron marched right up to them. Harry and Hermione knew this was a bad idea, but there was no stopping Ron now. Draco noticed the trio coming towards him. He stood up abruptly, which caused his friends to look around concernedly, and then join him on their feet when they saw Ron, Harry, and Hermione. 

The two groups of three turned towards each other and sized each other up. Draco’s group was certainly more intimidating. They wore all black, like all the Snakes, and were all tall and broad-shouldered. They even all looked slightly similar, like they had a certain family resemblance. Maybe it was their face shape, who knew. People could just tell that this was a group that was meant to be together. Harry’s group, however, was almost the complete opposite. Each of them were completely different looking, Ron with his pale skin and red hair, Hermione with her dark skin and darker hair, and Harry with his slightly dusky skin and brown hair. Even their personalities and interests clashed. Hermione could recite a dictionary word for word from memory but couldn’t keep up a conversation while Ron could barely sit still in class but was the life of the party. Harry always felt that he was the buffer between the two, the medium between the extremes. How else would Ron and Hermione get along without him? Anyway, the two groups sized each other up, and Draco spoke first.

“Ah Weaselby. Back for round two?” Draco taunted, causing Pansy and the other guy, Blake, no Blaise, to sneer. 

“No, I came to beat the pomegranate seeds out of your ass, blondie” said Ron. As soon as he said that, Draco rushed towards Ron, but was held back by Blaise. Draco struggled and snarled, trying to get past Blaise. He had rage in his eyes and looked ready to kill.

“Mr. Malfoy, is there something you would like to say?” Mr. Black was addressing the camp and Draco’s snarling interrupted him. Everyone turned to look at them. Draco was about to say something but then Blaise stepped in front of him.

“No, sir, Draco’s fine. He got a splinter!” yelled Blaise. Not the best excuse for the wild snarling that came out of Draco’s mouth, but it worked. 

“I see. Well back to the announcements…” Mr. Black continued. Ron, Harry, and Hermione walked away to find their seats. Just as they left, Ron whispered to Malfoy “Tonight. Midnight. Arena.” He said it just loud enough for Blaise, Pansy, Harry, and Hermione to hear. It was clear that they were all invited to watch this battle. Eventually, they found three seats next to Luna and Neville. After Mr. Black had finished with the announcements, each cabin was dismissed for bed. It was currently 10:00 PM. Two hours to go.

)-(

“Ronald Bilius Weasley! Just what exactly do you think you’re doing? It’s bad enough that the faculty let us out later than usual, but now you want to actually go out when there might be harpies around to eat us!” Hermione whispered furiously.

“I know Mione, that’s why I’m having Fred and George pay them off, as long as it’s us six.”

“Six?”

“Don’t act like Parkinson and Zabini won’t be there for Malfoy. As much of a git he is, and even though they’re all snakes, I don’t want them to  _ die _ , I just want to kick his ass.”

Hermione still looked at him sternly. “And I suppose you’re going out with him too,” she said as she whirled around to an absent minded Harry. Harry had spaced out momentarily and had no idea what Hermione had just said.

“Yeah he’s coming,” said Ron from the bathroom. He was putting on his armor for the fight. “And so are you!”

“Oh no! I am not being dragged into another one of your inane plans! I have had it Ron!”

Harry and Ron shared a glance. “Yeah, you’re going to end up coming with us, aren’t you?”

“Well yes, obviously.”

)-(

Both groups walked to the Arena about 10 minutes apart, with Draco and his friends being there first. Weasley started to scout it out, looking under and around everything, giving the room a thorough search.

“What are you doing,” Blaise asked.

“Looking for any traps or setups, obviously, I can’t really trust you, can I?” Weasley gave them a slightly scathing look. Blaise blinked. “Well, up, yes you can. We haven’t done anything to you, if anything, we shouldn’t trust you because you’re the one who started all this in the first place.” Weasley scowled, but didn’t reply.

“He’s right!” said Hermione. She was sitting in the corner, reading a book.

“Can we just get on with this? We have classes in the morning” said Draco. He felt very confident that he would win. He just wished that he wouldn’t have to waste the effort on Weasley, of all people.

“Okay, so what are the rules?” Ron asked. Everyone could tell he was getting mad. 

“No killing!” yelled Hermione from her corner of the room. Everyone offered murmurs of agreement. No one seemed too happy about it, but they agreed it would be for the best.

“Are they allowed to use their powers?” Pansy asked, looking excited.

“Yes.” said Draco and Ron at the same time. Ron wanted any advantage over Draco that he could have. Draco was glad that he could finish the fight more quickly now.

“Anything else?” Harry asked.

They all looked at each other unsure. Finally, they all shook their heads no. 

“Ok then,” Draco said as he clapped his hands together. “Shall we start?”

They quickly took their first positions, around 10 feet apart from each other, in their stances. Weasley had his face pulled down, with his teeth almost bared, and absolute wonder of fury. Draco on the other hand, looked absolutely statuesque, with a careful calmness over his face, almost marble - like.

“Ready. . . Start!”

Ron lunged, his muscle tight, and began swinging. Draco evaded his attacks and offered a few counter attacks, his blows landing about as well as his opponent’s. They both were almost equally matched, as different as their fighting styles were. Ron began tossing seeds he carried in a pouch, them exploding in puffs of seed capsules and pollen all over Draco. They blinded the blonde boy for enough time for Ron to get in a couple good hits, with him starting to hinder his abilities. Draco retaliated, regaining his vision and bringing his sword up in counter attacks that cut Weasley across his arms as he brought them up to protect himself. Draco let himself channel some of his power and started to have thicker and stronger asphodel flowers erupt to stabilize Weasley, but to also hold him down. He then allowed the flowers to grow from the seeds Ron carried, rendering them useless. Then, with a couple more blows, he had Ron at his mercy, on the ground, with the flowers gripping onto his arms, forcing him into a very powerless position. 

“Now, while that was a thrilling fight, I’m going to go back to my cabin. Thank you for once again proving why us Children of the Dead are better than the rest of you.” Draco sheathed his sword and began to pull off his armour.

“Wait, where are you going, aren’t you going to release him?” Hermione called out to Draco. 

“Why darling,” he began, looking slightly behind him, “They’re just flowers. You can cut through them quite easily.” 

He then walked out of the Arena, with Pansy and Blaise following. He had better things to do than help Weasley and his friends out, like a long, hot shower and some bandages for his wounds. He winced as his armour brushed one on his torso. It was going to be a long night, and an even worse morning.

)-(

Ron was furious. After Harry and Hermione had cut Ron out of the flowers, the first thing he did was start vigorously slashing at one of the flowers with his sword until it was almost mulch, screaming and swearing all the while. This defeat was going to stick with him for a long time.

“How the HELL did that little snake beat me?!” Ron screamed as he threw his sword into the nearest wall, where it clattered off with a clang.

“Do you want the long version or the short version?” Hermione asked, sounding bored. “I took notes.”

“You took notes on the fight?” asked Harry.

“Of course I did! I might not be the best duelist, so I gotta learn somehow. But that’s beside the point. Ron do you wanna know why you lost?” Hermione seemed very serious. Harry stepped back. This was only going to make Ron even more mad, and Hermione knew it.

“Yeah sure, how did the little blonde ferret beat me?” Ron said angrily, spacing each word out. Hermione then threw her book at him.

“BECAUSE HE ACTUALLY THOUGHT THIS THROUGH INSTEAD OF CHALLENGING SOMEONE TO A DUEL THE SECOND HE GOT PISSED OFF YOU IDIOT!” Both Harry and Ron’s heads snapped to attention at Hermione’s yell.

“I TOLD YOU THIS WAS A HORRIBLE IDEA! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO SPREADING THE RUMORS IN THE FIRST PLACE! BY TOMORROW YOU’RE GONNA BE THE LAUGHINGSTOCK OF THE CAMP BECAUSE YOU CAN’T SHUT UP AND PAY ATTENTION TO ANYTHING!” she screamed. Harry and Ron just stared at her, both of them at a loss for words. Hermione was sometimes grumpy, like everyone else was sometimes. They had never seen her this mad before. Then she picked up her book and stormed off. 

“Woah mate. I thought Malfoy with a sword was scary. That was just bloody terrifying. What’s gotten into her?” said Ron, his face white with shock.

“No idea” replied Harry, also pale from shock. Hermione was never like this. There was definitely something more to this than what he saw before and during the fight, but what could it be? Hermione was constantly ridiculing Ron’s stupidity in a joking manner, but this made it seem like she cares for him and considers him a good friend. That seemed nice, despite how she expressed this care.

“Well I’m off to bed. I’ve got a long day of being made fun of tomorrow.” said Ron gloomily. He could see that the duel, the insults, the rumors in the first place, it had all been his fault. He wasn’t looking forward to the next day, but he knew he deserved what was coming to him.

“Don’t worry, mate. Malfoy doesn’t have any other friends. Who’s he gonna tell, Mr. Riddle?” Harry joked, making Ron laugh. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. What are the chances that Hermione will ever speak to me again?”

“Eh, she’ll shun you for a few days and get over it. Deep down, she’s your friend and she’ll miss you eventually” Harry said, putting a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway goodnight” Ron said as he left the arena and began the long walk back to his cabin.

Harry was about to leave as well when he noticed something on the ground. He saw what looked like a small red flower connected to a cord. He walked over to it and discovered it was a bracelet. It was made or woven gold, many strands intertwined like a rope. It had a small charm that held together both parts of the cord. Harry thought it was a flower, but it was actually six red stones. To Harry, they looked like pomegranate seeds, but that would be ridiculous. Who puts pomegranate seeds on a bracelet. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. The first rule of the Hermes cabin was Finders Keepers. He’d give it back, maybe, if it belonged to one of his friends. Luna was known to make their own jewelry and they had some interesting tastes. Maybe it was theirs? Harry would figure it out tomorrow, if he didn’t forget. 


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the really late update, we write the chapters everyday, so this one has been done for quite some time. I (Kat) totally forgot the day of the week, and it was my turn to update. Sorry about that guys! Also, TW: implied/referenced child abuse

Harry was wrong and Ron’s worst fears were realized the next morning. It was just a bad day for Ron. Maybe it started with his brothers waking him up by throwing flowers on him, or with multiple people coming up outside of his cabin and asking about the fight the night before. Maybe it was due to the fact that Hermione was still avoiding him, and that even with what Harry had said, it still hurt that she wasn’t there next to him. Maybe it was a combination of all those factors, but whatever it was, it put Ron in one of the worst moods in his life.

All day long, more and more people began hearing about what happened. People began to laugh as Ron passed by. The Hades and Persephone kids even ambushed him in the bathroom by tossing a few buckets worth of flower petals into his stall. His own sister seemed to have heard about the fight and was avoiding him out of sheer embarrassment, sitting with some of her friends in Isis instead of at the Demeter table. Even worse - the faculty members had found out about it and now they were asking for both him and Malfoy after their classes. They also both had to clean up the mess they made in the arena. 

The floor was covered with seeds that didn’t, but still had the potential to, explode, dried out asphodel flowers, ripped pieces of leather armor, and a few bloodstains. It was absolutely atrocious, the way the room looked, as if two small armies were fighting in there, not two teenage boys. As they swept, mopped, picked up, and dusted the arena, a few seeds exploded, most of them near Ron, making him covered in bits of plant by the end of the day.

When they both had finished, Mr. Black had come into the room to inspect.

“Alright boys, this looks to be in tip-top shape. You’re free to go - for now.”

“Um, Mr. Black, what do you mean for now?” Ron asked.

“Oh, you two are still in deep shit. Both of you are on dish washing duty for two months, and I have some private punishments for you both, starting tomorrow of course. By the end of your duration, I want both of you to have become more tolerant of each other. Not friends of course, but tolerant.”

“Mr. Black, with all due respect - “

“Ah ah ah, Mr. Malfoy, both of you are to attend, no questions asked. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” they both said, looking down, dejected. As soon as the teacher walked away, they both glared at each other.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t told me all those things about my family.” “Well, that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t decided to make your inane accusations about Mr. Riddle and myself in public.” “Well, that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t started messing with me at every dinner!” “That wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t a complete git!” “That wouldn’t have happened if you had just accepted my apology!”

“WELL YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE MADE THOSE COMMENTS IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE!” Draco yelled, finally letting his tears stream down his face. 

“You don’t understand how it feels to have everyone whisper about you and your family behind your back, just because of who your mother or father is. You don’t get how it feels when those friends never listen to you about your personal life, or even ask how your winter with the worst human alive was. You don’t get that when someone, even a teacher, just asks to listen to you with no ulterior motives, and actually shares his life back with you, they just become your best friend in the span of  _ days _ . Add onto that, some  _ git _ that you have never spoken to before, just starts spreading rumours about you that are completely untrue, and no one seems to care, it hurts. And it’s absolutely painful in ways that you cannot imagine, when your best friend is having serious accusations pointed their way, and you can’t protect them the way you want to, so you have to protect them by protecting yourself. You will  _ never  _ get that.” He spun around and marched out of the Arena, going to his cabin and then slamming the door. 

Ron stared after him, utterly gobsmacked, feeling the new realizations dawn onto him. Yes by then he knew what he did was wrong, but he hadn’t known how much it affected Malfoy. He had to apologize, and for real this time, but not now, not when Malfoy was probably mad enough to actually kill him. He’d wait until after dinner, then, he would make his move.

)-(

The rest of the day passed slowly, and by dinner Ron still had no idea what to say or do. He figured the best time to talk would be when they were both scrubbing dishes, but he knew that this wasn't going to be fun. Two months is a long time, especially standing right next to someone you’ve hurt badly.

Once dinner was ended and everyone left to go to the campfire, Draco and Ron went behind the Dining Pavillion to the kitchen. Draco pushed Ron out of the way of the door so he could go in first. He was in a terrible mood that had no end in sight. Several invisible spirits flew everywhere, throwing trash away, cleaning up their areas, pretty much everything except for cleaning dishes. They had demigods to do that for them.

With three harpies perched behind them, just in case they tried to escape, they began scrubbing. They both began to appreciate what the spirits did for them. Who knew that scrubbing Macaroni and Cheese was so disgusting? Why would someone leave an entire uneaten piece of cake on their plate and not just throw it out? After about a half hour of scrubbing, Ron decided that enough time had gone by. He had to apologize now.

“So Malfoy,” he began. “I just want to start off by saying that I’m genuinely sorry for how I’ve treated you this past week.” When Draco didn’t respond, he continued.

“I know I’ve been terrible, truly evil, like a loathsome little cockroach. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” Draco still said nothing, but he didn’t look quite so furious. “Come on, mate! Anything at all?” 

“Dunk your head in the sink.” Draco said finally.

Ron stopped scrubbing. “Wait, what?”

“Dunk your head in the sink.” Draco repeated.

Ron looked at the sink. It was full of soap, pieces of food, and dirty dishes. This didn’t look particularly safe, or at all sanitary, but Ron knew he had to if things were ever going to get better. He took a deep breath and plunged his head into the sink.

All Ron felt was how burning hot the water was. His hands had gotten used to it after a while, but he wasn’t prepared for his face to be in the water. Almost as soon as he had done it, Draco pulled him out.

“Why did you do that?! It was a joke!” Draco yelled, upsetting the neary harpies.

“You told- me too.” spluttered Ron. He’d gotten plenty of water, and a little bit of leftover food, in his mouth. Ron took a second to spit it all out of his mouth. Then he picked up a piece of meat that he barely missed with his face and turned to Draco. “Want some?”

Draco just started laughing, causing Ron to laugh. They both started to cry, they were laughing so hard. Neither of them could remember when they had laughed this much before. It felt good, and Ron now knew he had been forgiven. 

“Hey, lets get outta here,” Draco whispered.

“How?” Ron whispered as well, nodding to the harpies. They were instructed to bite them in the ankle if they tried to escape. Draco stood silently for a second, closing his eyes. He began to darken, like all the shadows in the room were directed onto him. Pools of shadow moved from Draco to the three harpies, causing them to squawk in alarm. Then, without warning, the harpies disappeared.

“Holy shit!” screamed Ron, backing into the sink. “What did you do to them?!”

“Sent them to Maine. Don’t worry, they’ll be fine. I heard it’s nice this time of year.” Draco said as the shadows melted off of his body. “Shall we?” 

They sneaked out of the kitchen, taking a bag or two of marshmallows from the nearby pantry. Then they went to the Big House and just sat on the porch. There were several chairs outside, so it was rather pleasant. They started by throwing marshmallows at each other, but then they ran out, so they decided to talk. They began talking about their interests. They both liked Football, or Soccer for Americans. Then, they began talking about more personal things.

“So your little group, who are they?” Draco asked

“Well the girl with the book’s Hermione, and the little skinny bloke’s Harry.” Ron replied, tossing a dirty marshmallow up and catching it.

“That’s Granger? The one all the teachers worship?” Draco laughed. “The one who cried when she got a ninety on a test? Sounds like a bloody know-it-all!”

“Well, yeah, but she’s fun to be around.” Ron said defensively, blushing slightly. Draco picked up on it immediately.

“Well, what’s this, Weasley? Taken a fancy to Granger, have you?”

“No!” yelled Ron, turning red as a tomato. Draco burst out laughing.

“Fine, yah idiot. I do!” Ron said, picking up marshmallows from the floor and furiously throwing them at Malfoy, causing a brief marshmallow fight. When they both got tired, Ron asked, “What about you? Any chick catch your eye?”

Draco gulped. “Uh, you’re not judgemental right?”

“I’d like to think I’m not,” Ron said, half chuckling. “Why, are you gay or something?”

Draco face paled, and he quickly hid his head in his hands. “Hey, Malfoy, are you alright, did I say something wrong?”

Draco hiccuped. “No,” he said, wiping his eyes, “no, you just hit right on the nail.”

A moment of silence passed between them, Ron in slight shock, and Draco anxiously awaiting his response. “Oh, wow, uh, I was not expecting that to be honest. I thought you were dating Parkinson.” Draco whipped his head over to Ron. “Are you absolutely barmy, Weasley? Pansy?! I could never, we’re too close, we’ve known each other since even before we started attending school, there’s a reason our necklaces have way more beads than anybody else our age.” 

Ron started laughing. “Well how was I supposed to know? It’s not like I spend every waking minute noting down every single detail of you.”

“Well you certainly did when I came out of Tom’s classroom.”

That quickly sobered the mood, reminding both of them why they were even in this position in the first place. Ron looked off to the side while Draco looked guilty for souring their evening once again.

“Hey, um, Weasley, I hope you know I’m sorry for what I said to you, at yesterday’s dinner. It doesn’t matter what you had said to me, I shouldn’t have gone that far. I was just plain cruel of me, and I’m really sorry for that.”

Ron looked slightly surprised by the apology, but quickly responded. “It’s alright, I mean, I was a huge arsehole to you, and you didn’t deserve it at all. I did deserve something to put me in my place.” They both smiled at each other.

“Gods, that was so sappy,” Draco said to break the tension. He took out a small box of fags. “You want one?” “You smoke?”

“Yeah, it’s a good stress reliever, and when you live in my house, you need all the stress relievers you can get, but they have some charms on the barrier so that no one can bring marijuana into the camp, and only staff can bring in alcohol, and even then, no hard liquor.”

Ron was surprised. “How do you know all that?”

“Well I tried to bring in both my second year at the school, so I know from experience that I at least couldn’t bring both in, but Tom told me about the restrictions for everybody else.”

There was a second of silence between them then, “You really trust Mr. Riddle a lot, don’t you?”

A beat. A soft smile.

“Yeah, I do.”

)-(

After all classes were over the next day, Draco went over to Tom’s cabin. He wanted to tell him about what happened last night. There was something else he wanted to tell him, but more on that later.

Tom was sitting behind his desk, grading papers, when Draco walked in. He looked up and smiled.

“Hi there Draco! I’ve been wondering when you’d show up.” he said, standing up and walking over to Draco, giving him a hug.

“Hey Tom.” Draco said back, returning the hug.

“So I heard you got into some trouble the other night. Mind telling me what happened?”

Draco started to get embarrassed, but he might as well just say it. Tom already knows what happened. “So, Weasley and I got into a fight. We went into the arena at night and paid off the harpies to let us. I beat him by trapping him in flowers, but we got busted this morning. We had to clean the arena up and stuff.”

“Hmmm, were you fighting about the rumors involving us?” Tom asked.

“Well, kinda. I turned the insults back on him and I think I broke his confidence. That’s why he challenged me.”

Tom laughed. “He challenged you? That boy doesn’t even bring a pencil to my class, how would he be prepared to challenge you?” he said as he light squeezed Draco’s bicep.

Draco laughed. “Well, actually, he was very good, had some tricks up his sleeve too. He got me good, but we made up all in the end. He’s actually a pretty nice bloke once you get to know him.” 

“I mean, sure, I don’t know him well, or anyone besides you, matter of fact, so who am I to judge.” Tom smiled, but it was tight, more fake, but Draco didn’t notice. 

“Anyway, there is something I wanted to tell you today.” Draco suddenly looked nervous and extremely scared. “You can never, ever, for as long as you live, tell anyone else, got it?” His voice trembling but stern, as if he would run if he was told no. 

“Of course Draco, whatever you need from me.” Tom grabbed his hands, causing the boy to look up. Tom's face was serious and promising, and Draco found no sign of a lie.

“It’s about why I was most upset when I came back from home.”

Tom froze for a moment, but relaxed. 

“Ok, feel free to tell me only what you’re comfortable with.”

Draco breathed in, shoulders tense.

“It of course started with my birth. I was the product of an affair, as my father was already married to my step mother. She was already pregnant, but he was a piece of shit, so cheated on her. I was left on their doorstep, with a note explaining who my mother was, and that I was his son and to raise me. She obviously found out but stayed, gods know why. They ended up having another daughter after, she’s about 12 now. Father never liked that she found out, probably because he did it loads before, and now that she knew, she just stayed on top of it, made sure he never cheated again.”

A breath.

“He would beat me, you know. Hit me where it wouldn’t be obvious, every time he felt too pent up. Never laid a hand on my sisters, only me. No one found out, and no one knows besides me, you, and him.”

Draco waited for another second, for any sign that Tom would speak, but there wasn’t one. He continued.

“It got worse this past winter. She finally left him, and he had no one to hide it from anymore. He stopped using his fists, though.” He pulled up the edge of his shirt, exposing long irritated cuts expanding across his torso, leading to his arms and coming up the top of his shirt. “He started using a belt.”

Draco’s voice was strange, and he wasn’t quite sure if he was hearing himself, his head felt underwater. It was almost as he wasn’t telling Tom himself. 

Suddenly, he felt Tom pull him into a tight hug, muttering sweet nothings and just holding him. His eyes welled up with tears, and he suddenly felt himself crash back down to the ground. He started sobbing ferociously, burying his face in Tom’s chest. 

And he broke, over and over again, until he was no more.

)-(

He stopped crying about an hour later, hiccuping through the last ten minutes. He and Tom hadn’t moved from their spot on the floor. Tom was still mumbling things to Draco, brushing his hair with his hands. When Draco finally broke out of the embrace, Tom's hands stayed on his shoulders, then let go when he started to rise from the floor. Draco turned to Tom, embarrassed.

“Sorry about that. I… didn’t expect to break down like that.” he said.

“No, that’s quite all right. I myself went through something similar when I was a child.” Tom said sadly.

“Really?”

“Yes. I was raised in an orphanage, a pretty bad one. I was molested by one of my caretakers. He did it to every one of us. We had young ones with us, the youngest was five…” Tom couldn’t finish speaking. He turned around and let out a small sound, his body shaking with pain and anger. He turned back around. “Well, it was awful. The point is, I know how it feels. To be hurt by the one who’s supposed to protect you. To feel powerless. To be scared of what might happen to the younger ones if you don’t take it for them.”

They shared a look, of pain and anguish, of relatability and scarred childhoods that shaped them into the way they are. And it’s as if everything melts away, and they are the only ones who understand, just a teenage boy, broken at the hands of his father, and his best friend and mentor, feeling touched all over and nowhere at all.

)-(

Draco was really happy, the most he had been in his life. He had just left after talking to Tom. Finally someone understood what he’s going through. He knew he wasn’t alone. 

In the distance, he heard the sound of a conch shell. It was dinner time. He started to run to his cabin. These talks with Tom, while being very helpful and pleasant, always made him late or almost late to something, but Draco didn’t care. He felt perfectly fine for the first time.

This feeling was momentarily shattered as someone bumped into him. Both of them fell onto the ground. Apparently, they were both running without seeing the other. Draco was annoyed. Why did this idiot have to run into him now? Couldn’t they have waited until after his happy buzz had worn off. Then he looked up. He wasn’t so annoyed anymore.

The person he had hit was a very tall young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Draco couldn’t help but stare at him. His lithe but strong frame was just Draco’s type. His grey eyes were bright and glowing with kindness. The only imperfection on his handsome, chiseled face was a small bruise on his cheek, probably made when they ran into each other. As he stood up and brushed himself off, his fluffy brown hair seemed to shine in the setting sun’s light.

“Oh my gods, are you alright?” said the young man, his voice filled with concern. Draco didn’t hear him at first. He was too busy staring at him. He had never seen such a handsome boy, let alone spoken to one. 

“Erm, hello? Are you alright?” Draco snapped out of his daze.

“Oh, um, yes. I’m quite alright.”

“Okay. . . anyway, you’re that Malfoy boy, right? Um, Draco!”

Draco looked down, ashamed. “Yeah. Everyone’s heard about it now, haven’t they?”

“Of course, it's’ been the biggest gossip around camp for a couple days now, like, first the incident at dinner, then the fight in the Arena the same night! It was incredible!” Cedric's voice was excitable, until he caught a glance of Draco’s face. “At least, that’s what everyone says.”

An awkward silence ensued, stretching for a good thirty seconds. Draco knew Cedric expected him to reply, but the only thoughts in his head were about the speaker, not the conversation. Cedric sensed Draco had nothing to say and continued.

“So, I know we gotta get to our cabins for dinner. Would it be okay if I walked you to your cabin?” Cedric asked with a small grin. 

Draco was freaking out internally. He just happened to bump into this beautiful guy who is nice enough to walk him back to his cabin? Especially after he just ran into him? The only problem was that he has to now talk to him the whole way back. He was way too nervous and awkward to think of anything meaningful to say. Was he doomed to have the most handsome boy in the camp think of him as an awkward weirdo?

“Uh, yeah, sure!” Draco collected himself and started walking with Cedric back to his cabin. They walked silently for a few minutes. Draco was still trying to calm down and Cedric thought he seemed frazzled, though he couldn’t imagine why. However, Cedric was an extrovert, so he couldn’t stand the silence for too long.

“So, the fight with you and Weasley, I heard you absolutely destroyed him!” he said.

“Uh, yeah.” Draco quietly said. He wasn’t exactly happy about it now, since it got him into trouble and he thought Ron was cool now. It was pretty awesome at the time, though.

“From what I can hear, you guys had a sword duel, but everyone said different things about how you won. I just gotta know how you won.”

Draco hesitated a bit, but figured it was best if people knew the truth. “Well, we both started strong, he started to throw the seed bombs that all Demeter kids carry. He used that to distract me and got quite a few hits, I’m still healing a bit. Then I overpowered him, then used my magic to tie him up, and forced him to yield. Simple as that.”

“Dang, man that’s so cool!” Cedric yelled, giving Draco a high five. “How’d you tie him up? Never heard of rope magic before.”

“Oh, I’m from Persephone. I just used some Asphodel flowers.”

Cedric started to laugh. “You won a duel with flowers? That is just too good!”

“Well that is part of my power arsenal,” Draco deadpanned.

“Ooooooh you got more? What are they?” Cedric sounded pretty excited, which made Draco want to talk more. What cabin has the power to make him, one of the Snakes, want to talk? Maybe it was just the Cedric charm. 

So, Draco excitedly explained what he and his siblings could do, and how since their mother shared the six months a year with her husband, he shared a bit of his power with her, ultimately with it transferring to her children, only coming out when she herself had the power.

“Wow, your powers change every season? That’s so cool! And they’re all so cool! I’d love to control the wind! Too bad I just got stuck with charmspeak.” He chuckled. “Actually, I guess I’m pretty lucky. Not a lot of Aphrodites have it.”

He was an Aphrodite? He didn’t know many of them, but he saw that they spent all their free time gossiping by the campfire. Honestly, besides the Hades and Persephone cabins, they were the most hated, but they actually had good reason to be hated. The lot of them spread rumors like the plague, and broke hearts like toothpicks. They didn’t care about anyone but themselves, not even their siblings, and they put no effort into anything. So far, Cedric had failed to fit these stereotypes. He seemed to represent the best part of Aphrodite: compassion. He talked to Draco for the purpose of getting to know him, felt genuinely concerned when he bumped into him, and offered to walk him home, all while setting Draco perfectly at ease. 

)-(

Later after dinner, Draco and Ron began to talk once more. After getting rid of the harpies the day before, it was a lot easier to slack off and just talk to one another. 

“Hey, um, Malfoy, I’ve been wondering, do you want to meet Harry and Hermione?”

“Um, why would I?”

“I dunno, ‘cause they’re my friends, and I’d like to think you’ve become one of my friends, at least.” Draco had a stunned look upon his face. “Oh shit, did I read it wrong, are we just tolerant of each other and I read too much into it?” Ron asked hurriedly, his face becoming more of a shade similar to his hair. “No, mate, it's not that. It just, ya know, I’m a Snake. No one likes us. And we don’t really like anyone else.” Draco shrugged. “Outside of our little group, I’ve only actually talked to you and Tom this much. Everyone else is a bore, or just a dick.”

“Trust me, from the way that Hermione stood up for you, she’s going to be alright with you, maybe even like you,” he joked. “Harry might need some adjusting since he’s used to me badmouthing you, but I can warn them, get them to be on their best behavior, Your Highness.” Ron said the last part with a posh accent and a bow. 

Draco smacked him in the arm. “Get up!” After laughing with Ron, he said “Alright, fine, I’ll meet your guys. I don’t do so well with new people, just a heads up.”

“You don’t?” Ron asked. “You seemed fine with me.” 

Draco snorted. “Well that's ‘cause I whooped your ass the day before we started talking, so we were already acquainted!”

“Yes yes, you beat me, we get it, I’m going to cry a river over it,” Ron said sarcastically. “If you ask me, I would’ve had you without powers.”

Draco raised a brow. “Oh really, you’re so sure of that?” “Of course I am, I’m way better at sword fighting than you,” Ron laughed.

“Okay, if you’re so good at fighting, the next time we choose partners in class, you and I are going to go against one another with no powers, we’ll see who’s better,” Draco teased.

“Deal.”

They sat on the porch of the Big House, smoking and occasionally talking. Draco just felt like they understood each other on a deeper level. From the insults he gave Draco before they were friends, he obviously wasn’t loved as he needed to be back at home. Draco felt sad for him, but he was glad someone could understand what he went through. He didn’t feel like he could tell Ron his deepest darkest secrets like he could with Tom, but Ron was still a good person to talk to. Underneath the aloof and dim exterior, he was a very funny and nice person. He just happened to make bad jokes sometimes.

Just then, Draco heard a harpy squawking. He dropped his cigarette, stepped on it, and then turned frantically to Ron. He was confused by Draco’s sudden strange behavior. 

“Oi, mate what the-” he was cut off by Draco putting a hand over his mouth. Draco then knocked Ron’s cigarette to the ground and extinguished it. Ron started to struggle. They heard the sound of several pairs of large wings flying over the Big House. Ron finally stopped moving. Ten seconds later, they couldn’t hear any harpies. Draco took his hand off of Ron’s mouth and they both took big sighs of relief.

“Thanks mate.” sighed Ron. “If they saw us, we’d probably be dead!”

“You mean they’d eat us, or Mr. Black would kill us?” Draco replied.

“Who cares?” laughed Ron. “They’d both be painful deaths, but I’d rather take my chances with the harpy.”

“True, at least then we would have a fighting chance.” They both chuckled and lit up another cigarette each. For the next few hours, they sat, smoked, and laughed. Draco couldn’t remember when he’d ever had more fun with someone. Maybe when he was beating Ron’s ass, but that seems a little rude now. Now Ron was a friend. He knew he had someone else to talk to, which was great. This really was a nice night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it feels rushed. This is just barely the beginning, though, so hold on tight!


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Attempted Sexual Assault of a Minor

After all of his classes, Harry met up with Ron and Hermione, who had finally started speaking to Ron again. They began talking about how their days were, what homework they had, and whatnot until Ron said something very strange.

“Oh, by the way, I invited Malfoy over to meet you guys. Be nice, okay.” 

Hermione seemed perfectly fine with this. She gave a smile and said “Okay”, while Harry was confused. Didn’t they hate each other? Didn’t they destroy each other’s pride in the same night with insults? Didn’t they have a fight that completely devastated Ron, that people are still laughing about?

Ron saw Harry’s confusion. “Me and him-” “Him and I.” “. . . made up.”

“Just like that. Seriously?” Harry was still skeptical. “The guy who broke your spirit like a twig the other night? How can you two ‘make up?’”

“Well, we had to wash dishes together, right? Well, we just kinda blew it off and just went to hang out at the Big House. He’s a cool guy, I just misunderstood him.” Ron said. “Now are you gonna be nice or does he have to whoop your ass, too?”

“Alright, mate. If you say he’s fine, then he’s fine,” Harry replied. “But I’m gonna keep and eye on him, just in case.”

“You guys are the ones leaving the cigarettes and marshmallows on the porch then?” Hermione asked, with a smirk. 

“Eh, calm down Mione. We’ll clean it up later.” said Ron, with absolutely no intent to do so.

“No, I’m just saying it’s nice you guys are friends now.”

Ron and Harry stood there in shock. “Seriously? You don’t care? But you’re literally the definition of a stickler!” Ron said in astonishment.

“Oh you better believe I’ll make sure you clean it up.” she said with a small, slightly evil smile.

“How?”

“You don’t wanna find out Ronald, just do it.” Hermione said. “The point is, this is good. You turned an enemy into a friend, and now you’re both happier. I can’t wait to see him!”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see if he still looks like a git without the stupid shadow magic.” Harry whispered to himself. He was glad Ron was happy, but Malfoy had seriously hurt Ron with his words. He couldn’t trust someone who did that to one of his best friends (no matter how pretty that git was).

)-(

Later on, Harry and Hermione (reluctantly) snuck out to meet Draco and Ron during their ‘detention’. They all snuck by the kitchens and noticed a note.

“Hey Mione, Harry. Meet us by the Big House.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and started to quietly storm off in the opposite direction, dragging Harry over towards the Big House. “Gods, Ron is so annoying, making us run all over the place!  _ Especially _ after hours! I can’t believe him!” “Yes you can.” “Yes I can,” Hermione admitted begrudgingly. 

After more complaining about Ron and a short walk, they made it to the Big House. There sat Ron and Malfoy. Harry took a moment to observe how happy they looked together, sending a pang of jealousy throughout his body. He was Ron’s best friend, not this weird antisocial blondie who looked like a ferret.

“Harry! Mione! Finally you guys got here.” Ron huffed out.

Hermione gave Ron a death glare that Ron flinched at and made Malfoy ironically laugh hysterically. She wasn’t happy breaking the rules, but she wouldn’t say no to a hang out. 

Ron stood up and cleared his throat. “Draco, these are my friends, Harry and Hermione. Guys, this is Draco.”

“We’ve met,” Draco said sarcastically. Harry remained suspiciously quiet. Hermione gave a small chuckle and shook hands with him. Then Draco and Harry shook hands. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a sword. Draco could tell Harry didn’t trust him, which wasn’t uncommon, but was still unpleasant. During the shake, Harry noticed Draco had a very firm grip, and his hand felt so nice and warm. Wait, what? They released each other’s hand. 

“So,” Hermione began as she sat down in one of the porch’s many chairs. “What do you guys do here?”

“Eh, talk, smoke, one time I even brought cards over, but we started to make too much noise so we had to cut the night short.” Draco drawled out, a slight smirk on his face.

“You smoke? Oh gods, don’t you know it’s against the rules to bring that sort of stuff over into the camp? Plus, it’ll kill you faster than a monster would, depending on how much you smoke.” Hermione started to rant frantically about the statistics of teenage smoking and how deadly it was, while Harry looked used to it, Ron looked bored but amused, and Draco was just amused. 

“Yes, Granger, I know. But I’ve got some intel on how to get past all of the faculty. Plus, I rather die from smoking than anything else, so I’m good.” He laid back on his elbows and took another drag. He held it in, then blew it out in Ron’s face,

“Ugh, you absolute arsehole!” Ron sputtered out while laughing. Hermione and Harry looked at the duo, surprised by their closeness and how relaxed they were around each other. Harry finally started to believe that these two had made up, but he still didn’t trust Draco. He felt awfully jealous when he saw that they were both so close. Ron held up Draco’s pack of cigarettes. “Want one Harry? I know you don’t Mione.” Hermione just huffed and grabbed the book she brought over for just in case. Harry accepted one quietly, then lit it up. “Really Harry, you too? Ugh boys. They have no sense of self preservation.” Hermione threw up her hands, but didn’t seem too annoyed by their actions. Harry had never smoked before, so he took a puff and started coughing and retching. Draco and Ron started laughing, while Hermione restarted her anti-smoking rant, using Harry as evidence, which just made Draco and Ron laugh harder.

They continued to talk late into the night, with Draco, Ron, and Hermione mostly doing the talking and Harry choking his way through two cigarettes. Ron noticed how quiet Harry was being, but didn’t want to bring it up, especially in front of Draco. 

Later on that evening, Ron went up to go to the restroom, but dragged Harry along with him. 

“Hey, Ron, ow, that hurts you know,” Harry complained.

Once they had reached the restrooms, Ron turned to Harry. “So what’s up, mate? You’ve been super quiet all night.”

“Yeah, I guess I still don’t like Malfoy. Remember what he said to you? Remember how much you cried-.” 

“And don’t finish that sentence!” Ron exclaimed frantically. “Yeah, we got off to a bad start, but it was my fault.”

“You mean you actually listened to Hermione for once?” Harry said with a smirk.

“No! I mean, yeah. I- ugh!” Ron was getting embarrassed, for reasons Harry couldn’t fathom. “The point is, Draco’s a nice guy. You should just try to talk to him.” When he saw Harry still looked uncertain, he continued. “Don’t worry. I’ll make him promise to not kill you. Is that the problem? Are you scared of him?” Ron joked.

Harry scoffed. “I’m not scared of that walking blonde ferret.” Ron raised an eyebrow. “Ok, maybe a little. But have you seen the way he uses his powers. Persephones are never this scary!” “I know, right? I always thought they were like us Demeters, but worse with plants and depressed. This guy is crazy!” “Are all of them like this?” “Dunno, never asked.”

After that they walked back over to rejoin the group. Draco and Hermione were talking, which Ron thought was nice. At least one of his friends liked him. 

“‘Sup, we’re back!” said Ron as he and Harry sat back down on the porch chairs. Harry gave a wave. He was still scared of Draco.

“Sit, Granger was just about to spill who her crush is!” Draco squealing gleefully. Hermione looked down at her lap blushing. Ron and Harry started to look just as gleeful.

“Nope, nevermind.” Hermione said quickly. 

“Aw, come on!” Ron yelled. “You’re killing us! Just say it!”

“Nope!” Hermione said. 

“Does that mean we have to guess?” Ron said excitedly..

“Yes!” yelled Draco. 

“You can try, boys. You can try.” said Hermione slyly.

They both started to look excited, then confused. “You. . . you don’t hang out with anyone really. . . maybe it’s a pretty boy?” Harry asked nervously.

Ron sat up. “You're not thinking about-”

“Digory? ‘Course I am!” Harry finished. “I mean, have you seen the guy?”

“I agree!” Draco said. “And he’s super nice. I talked to him once.”

“Okay, final guess, Pretty Boy Digory!” Harry exclaimed. Everyone turned to Hermione for her answer.

“Nice try, but nope!” Hermione triumphantly said. All the boys groaned. Multiple “Come on!”s and a few curses could be heard. 

“All right then, who else could it be?” Harry asked. Everyone was silent for a moment, trying to think of who it is. 

“It’s not Pretty Boy. Is there anyone more handsome than him?” Ron asked?

“Pssh, I don’t care about that!” Hermione said. “I want someone I can be close to, we share interests and can actually have conversations. I don’t want someone to bang.”

“Wait!” Draco said. “She said someone, not specifying gender. What if it’s not a pretty boy, but a pretty girl?” Everyone started getting more excited. Hermione started getting embarrassed, but she knew she was straight and that at least they would never guess.

“What about your friend, Draco? That Parkinson girl.” Ron asked.

“Pansy? Well, she really just likes the person, not the gender. If she’s your crush, Granger, then you got a chance!” Draco said, giving Hermione a nudge with his elbow.

“Nope. And it’s a boy.” Hermione said. “I’m straight.” 

“Dang It!” Harry exclaimed. “We almost had it!”

“You really didn’t.” said Hermione.

“So it’s a boy who isn’t Diggory. You want someone who likes the stuff you like, and you want to talk to the bloke mostly, so I’m assuming he’s not that handsome.” Ron said.

“Well, you like to read, Mione, so I’m guessing it’s a nerd. But all the nerds are in Athena, and you’re an Athena, so that’s just-”

“Oh my gods, no!” Hermione yelled. “He’s not in my cabin!”

“Alright then, I think I know who it is.” Ron laughed. “It's Neville, isn’t it?” Ron’s guess did sort of make sense. Outside of the Athena cabin, Neville and Luna were the only ones that liked to read, but the crush was a boy and Luna was non binary. He was very nice, but he wasn’t very handsome, so that fit Ron’s assumption.

Hermione laughed so hard she cried. “Neville! Good gods, I can’t believe that’s your guess!” “Well what’s wrong with Neville?” “I wouldn’t like him like that because he’s too much of a friend! That’s all I’ve seen him as for these past years.” “Seriously, Ron?” Harry asked. “Your best guess was Neville? Are you crazy?!” “At least I made a guess! Where’s yours?” Ron got defensive. “I can make a guess right now!” “Allright, mate, let’s hear it!”

Harry took a second to think. He had no idea who to guess. Hermione didn’t know very many people other than the three of them. Then Harry thought of something. Who does Hermione admire more than anyone in the camp?

“I got it! Mr. Lupin!” Mr. Lupin was the Greek History teacher. His subject may sound boring, but he always found some way to keep everyone interested, like acting out the myths himself, bringing in Ancient Greek artifacts from the back of the Big House, and just making the stories hilarious. He just made learning fun!

This answer, which Harry knew was wrong before he said it, made everyone yell “EWWWWWWWW!” This led to everyone laughing so hard that they all started crying and Ron fell out of his chair, which only made them laugh harder.

Then they heard the harpies. They sounded close. The group of campers could hear the hungry squawks of the giant bird ladies, and could see five dark flying figures about a hundred yards away. 

“Quick guys! The strawberry patch!” Hermione whispered. Harry, Ron, and Draco extinguished their cigarettes and jumped into the strawberry bushes, which didn’t hide them at all. “Ron! Your powers!” Hermione whisper-yelled frantically. The harpies had heard them running and laughing, so their shrieks got louder and louder. Ron quickly used his powers to make the bush they were trying to lie in twice as big, which was just big enough for all of them to hide, if they all stayed very still and very close together. The shrieks and squawks got louder until they heard the whooshing sound of giant wings above them. Each and every one of the campers thought  _ ‘This is it. I’m gonna die.’  _ Then the noises got quieter and quieter, until they couldn’t be heard at all. Slowly, everyone raised their heads out of the strawberries.

“Coast is clear.” Hermione whispered shakily. They were all still scared, and with good reason. A harpy has razor sharp teeth that can cut through a full sized human instantly. 

“G-good plan, Mione.” Harry said, taking deep breaths. Draco lit a cigarette and began to smoke, just to calm down. Ron took one, too. 

“I think we have a better chance of surviving if we just go to bed.” Hermione said, grabbing onto Draco for balance. 

“Yeah. N-night night, everyone!” said Ron. Then they all ran as fast as they could back to their cabins. They had all had far too much excitement for one night.

)-(

Draco walked to Tom’s classroom after classes everyday and spent his weekends with him, but at night he spent his ‘punishments’ with Ron, and occasionally Hermione and Harry. It became a ritual, like clockwork, and he was happy, ecstatic even. His family definitely noticed, and he considered opening them to this side of him, but he was afraid. They had never shown any interest in him outside of their own interactions. Ultimately he decided not to tell them, and continued his actions for the next month. 

)-(

Finally, it was Valentine’s Day at the Greek Demigods School for Survival. The scent of love was in the air. . . or was that the Aphrodites spraying their perfume all over the place? Draco couldn’t tell, but he was excited nonetheless. He didn’t care that he didn’t have a Valentine, he had his friends, friends that would actually accept the slightest affection from him. 

It was a Sunday, so he didn’t have any classes that day, and he spent his lunch talking with Tom. 

“Anyway, so I told Theo that-”

“Oh, I forgot something!”

Draco was confused. “What did you forget?”

Tom smiled. “Your present. You know what, after dinner, before your punishment for the day, can you drop by here, I’ll have it by then,” he said as he leaned forward and put his hand on Draco’s shoulder. “That is, if you feel comfortable with that.”

Draco blinked. “Of course Tom, whatever you want.”

His smile widened. “Great! Well, it seems time for us to go off for dinner. Meet you after?”

“Of course,” Draco confirmed. 

They both exited the room, and walked off in different directions, Draco to get ready, and Tom off to the Big House. After changing, Draco decided to run up to the trio he widely regarded as friends.

“Weasley, Evans, Granger!” he called out. They all turned in surprise, not used to him talking to them in public. Draco cringed inwardly about how he might’ve made them feel.

He jogged up to catch them. “Do you mind sitting together today?”

They all shared a look of bewilderment, then Harry piped up. “Yeah totally, but aren’t we supposed to sit at our own tables?” “Well yes, but they always let couples sit together, so if they say anything, we can just say it’s a double date.” He winked. Ron and Hermione almost shared a look while blushing furiously, and Harry looked confused, but just shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Ok, let’s go.”

They walked to an empty table and sat down, garnering looks and whispers from other tables, but they ignored them. They immediately began talking amongst themselves, happy to continue a particular argument from the night before. Harry and Ron believed that Mr. Black was some kind of ‘were-creature’ as they could’ve sworn that there was a big black dog that Mr. Black turned into, and Hermione and Draco thought it was preposterous. They were laughing as Ron tried to make another argument that just sounded like if you poke the teacher with a stick, he would turn. 

“I swear that if you do it, I will give you twenty drachmas,” Draco challenged. Ron paled at the thought of angering Mr. Black, and quickly took back his argument. It was such a fast change that Harry and Hermione laughed while Draco smirked. 

Everyone continued to look at them, which the group finally seemed to notice. 

“Oi, whatcha lookin’ at!” Ron called out with his mouth full. Their heads turned almost all at the same time. Hermione smacked him in the arm with a book.

“You idiot! If anyone wasn’t watching, they are now!” she said.

“Bah, who cares! At least they know they’re being judged,” Ron said, then laughed. Draco and Harry followed, all with Hermione glaring at them before joining in. 

They all laughed together and enjoyed their dinner, before they started up to go leave. Harry and Hermione left to go to the campfire, while Ron and Draco went to go “scrub dishes”.

“Oh, shit, I forgot, Tom asked me to get something from him before our ‘punishment’.” Ron just shrugged. “Come back quick, I want to actually talk to someone.”

Draco runs off in the direction of Tom’s classroom, pulling up his hoodie so he won’t be seen. After a brief jog, a close call with a harpy, and having to walk a long way around the campfire, he finally made it. The little cabin looked different at night. It looked like the stories he heard as a kid, like there was a witch or something inside, but Draco knew the only thing inside was Tom, his best friend. He walked inside, making sure to close the door.

“Hey Tom, I’m here!” Draco yelled. He couldn’t see him, which was odd. Tom was always at his desk, grading papers or reading a book. 

“I’m back here!” was heard from behind the door behind Tom’s desk. Draco had noticed the door, and he thought it was a storage room for old maths books or something. No one really knew, but no one cared. Draco could see that the door was open, and inside it was dark. He walked through the door.

“Happy Valentine’s Da-” Draco said as he looked around the room. He couldn’t see Tom. All that was in the room were some stacks of chairs and some dusty old desks. Where was his friend?

Then the door closed behind him with a slam. Draco jumped, turned around, and began to prepare to shadow travel. It was a dark room, and whatever monster couldn’t possibly stop- wait, never mind, it was just Tom behind the door.

“Hello Draco!” he said. He was holding a screwdriver. “Sorry about that. I was just fixing the door. It was really squeaky.”

“Oh okay.” Draco laughed. “I almost shadow travelled!” They both began to laugh.

“Anyway, come, sit, sit, let me just get something!” Tom walked into the classroom part of the cabin. He sat down on a nearby couch. Draco heard Tom taking something out of his desk. What could it be? Tom walked back into the room and set a cup of tea in front of Draco.

“Here, drink up! It’s good for digestion.” Tom said. 

Draco took a sip. It was pretty good. A little salty, which was strange for tea, but pretty good.

“Got it from Scotland. It’s the most popular flavor.” Tom said. “The salty aftertaste takes getting used to, but it's very good.” Draco took another sip and nodded. “Now tell me, how was your day?”

“Eh, same as everyday.” Draco said. “Anything new for you?”

“Well, there was a teacher meeting today, but it was very boring.” Tom said, yawning. “Everyone’s just talking about the curriculum, or crazy students, or test grades. Honestly, I see no point to them.”

They continued their small talk for about fifteen minutes or so, talking about classes, what they thought of the other students, books they liked, and things like that. Then came the question that everyone seemed to be asking today.

“So, serious question.” Tom said with a smile, stirring his own cup of tea. “Do you have a Valentine, Draco?”

Draco began to get flustered. He never enjoyed talking about these things. “What? No!”

“No need to be shy.” Tom said. “Handsome lad like you and no boyfriend? I don’t believe it!”

“No, I’m single. Honestly, I haven’t met another gay bloke. I know some people, my friend Pansy if bi, that strange kid, Lovegood, is nonbinary or something, but there isn’t another guy here that’s gay.”

“That’s a shame. No one should be single on Valentine’s Day.” Tom said, shaking his head.

“What about you, Tom?” Draco asked. “You got someone?”

“Nope, I’m single as well.” Tom laughed.

Draco began to join in, but he felt slightly off, like he did after a couple of shots. Sober enough to walk straight, but not to pass a breathalyzer. He sat up a bit straighter.

“Damn, I must be more tired than I thought. I should probably head out. You something about a present earlier?” Draco asked. He was slightly worried that Tom was only going to think he was here for gifts, but he really didn’t feel all too great and wanted to go back with Ron and finish the night before bed. 

“Oh, of course, my boy. Let me just go over and grab it, it’s on my desk.” Tom walked out to the main room, leaving Draco on the couch. He heard something from the other room, maybe footsteps, maybe a drawer opening, maybe both, but Draco couldn’t focus on the sound for some reason. Then Tom reentered the room. With him, he held a small box, wrapped with white and green paper. 

“Okay, here it is!” Tom said excitedly. Handing it over to Draco. “Open it up!”

“Wowwww thaaaanksss,” slurred Draco. He started to unwrap the box, struggling a bit. He was sure he’d have to take a sick day tomorrow. “You din’t have to doooo thaaaat.”  _ Wow my voice is funny.  _ Draco thought. 

“Really, Draco, it was no trouble,” Tom said, with a smile. “I just want you to know that you’ve been a great friend to me, the best I’ve had.”

Draco began to giggle. He had finally managed to unwrap all the paper and now he began to open the box, which was very light. “Thaaaaanksss Tommmmy, yoooouuuu’re my besssst friennnd toooo.”  _ Okay, what is wrong with me?  _ Draco thought in the back corner of his mind. His fingers looked a little blurry now, but they managed to find an opening in the small box.

“And that, Draco,” Tom began, with a new, darker tone to his voice. “Is why you owe me this.” 

Draco had just opened the box. He froze. What did he just say? Then he looked inside the box. It was empty. 

With all the strength he had, Draco burst off the couch and towards the door, only to trip over his own feet and have Tom shove him back on the couch. Tom was on top of him now. Draco had never been more scared. Not when his father beat him, not when he had to fight monsters in the forest, not even when he had almost gotten eaten by harpies the other night. Then Tom kissed him.

It wasn’t even a kiss. It felt rough and was all teeth. That was all Draco could feel for the first few seconds. Then his shock ran out and he realised what was happening. He could feel cold, strong hands begin to lift his shirt. Draco was still too dizzy to react. He began to struggle, but was pushed down. Instead of pushing up his shirt this time, Tom just pulled on his own trousers. It finally clicked in Draco’s brain what was going on.

As soon as he sobered up, though, Tom leaned over and bit his neck like imprinting a brand on him. He could feel it break the skin and felt some of the hot blood slowly drip down. He kicked even more, almost nailing him in the dick, before Tom slapped him. Hard.

Draco was stunned. He was transported back with his father, just after his mother left him. The beating he took. How much he bled. The strike his father gave him as soon as he finished, before a warning to never tell anyone, lest he want to put his sisters in a similar fate.

He snapped out of it when he felt Tom try to tug down his trousers while thrusting up against his leg.

In one fluid movement, Draco pushed Tom off of him, kicked a desk into him, which sent Tom flying backward into a stack of chairs, and ran out of the cabin as fast as his legs could carry him. He heard Tom getting up and coming after him, but the sound stopped once Draco ran out the door of the cabin. Draco sprinted into a nearby bush and hid, praying to every god he knew to not be seen. He would’ve shadow traveled, but it required concentration, and there was no chance of that after what just happened. 

Draco saw Tom stick his head out, look left, and then right, to where the bush Draco hid in. Tom didn’t appear to see him. Draco could see Tom turn inside, make a small growling noise, and go inside. He didn’t know for sure, but he thought he saw Tom’s eyes glowing red.

Once he was sure Tom was gone, Draco just ran. He tried to run all the way to the Big House, to where he could see Ron’s bright red hair, impatiently waiting, but whatever Tom just did to him left him dizzy and nauseous. 

“Hey, where the Hades have you b-” he started, but Draco just collapsed in front of Ron. He crawled frantically towards him and jumped up into his arms. Ron was confused, but saw his friend's rumpled state and red face. He also noticed unusual marks. His cheek was red, like someone had hit him, and he was bleeding from his neck.

“Hey Malfoy, are you alright.” That seemed to trigger something in Draco, because he absolutely collapsed into Ron’s arms. Ron struggled under the dead weight, but managed to hold the blonde up for enough time to comfortably sit down on the steps. 

“Hey, hey, shhhhh, shh,” he shushed, trying to comfort the hyperventilating boy. He just held Draco, rocking back and forth, letting the boy sob, barely holding himself together by the seams. Ron tried to look around, see if by chance anyone had woken up to Draco’s cries. He was actually hoping that a teacher would wake up and handle the situation, ‘cause he didn’t know what to do. 

“Draco, do you want me to go get Tom?” That snapped Draco out of his cries, and he clutched at Ron’s collar. 

“NO!” Draco screamed, causing Ron to stumble backward, knocking both of them to the ground.

“Don’t ever get that man, he’s. . . he. . . just don’t!” he said hysterically. Just kept muttering, “Don’t, don’t,” over and over again while he buried his face in Ron’s chest. Ron just continued to rub his back, shushing him, trying to comfort him. 

The lights suddenly turned on from inside the Big House. Both boys could hear footsteps down the stairs and over to the front door, but Ron was the only one actively trying to catch whoever’s eye. 

A figure stepped out, and Ron finally saw that it was Mr. Lupin. He immediately turned to the two boys, still sitting on the floor. Wordlessly, he helped them both up, Draco first, then Ron. He could see Draco had been crying, no matter how hard Draco tried to hide it. Then he turned to Ron.

“Mr. Weasley, you should head back to your cabin. Too much excitement before bed can lead to a bad night’s sleep,” he said with a whistle. Three harpies flew down from the roof. Ron walked back to his cabin, shoulders slumped. He was concerned about what would happen to Draco. He had no idea what just happened to him, but it wasn’t good. He prayed that Mr. Lupin would take it easy on him. The harpies followed behind him, making sure he didn’t leave his cabin. Once they were out of sight, Mr. Lupin turned to Draco.

“Mr. Malfoy, please join me inside.” he said as he held the door open. Draco was sure he was in trouble. After all, it had been his idea in the first place to ditch their punishment. Of all the nights to get into trouble, this had to be the worst. He walked inside.

Mr. Lupin sat him down on a couch and started towards the personal kitchen the building had. Draco’s arm shot out to grab the man’s sleeve.

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t go.” Mr. Lupin turned back around and sat down.

“I can tell you’ve had a very rough night, Draco,” he said softly, “Can you tell me what happened?” Draco stared off into the distance, tears welling in his eyes. “Did Ronald do something?” Draco wiped his eyes and shook his eyes. “Was it something a friend did?” Draco began to cry silently, but he didn’t shake or nod his head. He couldn’t. Tom wasn’t his friend, not anymore. “Please tell me Draco. I’m only here to help. I promise I’ll do what I can to help, but there’s nothing I can do if I don’t know what’s going on.” Draco collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. Mr. Lupin rushed to the floor, wrapping him in a firm embrace.

“I’m sorry. I ask too much of you. I know that whatever happened must have been awful. I understand if you can’t tell me.” Lupin said.

“No, I-I have t-to,” Draco sobbed out, “It w-was Mr. R-Riddle.”

“Mr. Riddle?” Lupin, like most of the people at the camp, never trusted him. He never took the time to connect with anyone. Whenever he had to attend teacher meetings, he never said a word. There was also a rumor that bad things happened around him. A student had once thrown a ball of paper at him, and the next day was seriously injured during Capture the Flag. Apparently his armor had been tampered with. Now this has happened. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew that Riddle would have to pay. 

“He, he was my friend” Draco began. “I t-told him… about my life, h-he told me about h-his.” His sobbing only got worse. “Then he c-called me t-to his c-cabin. And h-he-” Draco couldn’t finish. His sobbing had reached its peak.

“Did he take advantage of you Draco?” Mr. Lupin asked with a new level of intensity. Draco nodded. “I think you better stay here tonight. It may not be safe for you out there.” He led Draco, who had begun to calm down, into a smaller room in the back of the Big House. Inside, there was a cot, a dresser, and a lamp. Draco dropped onto the bed, his sobs slowly softening into sniffles. 

“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to you, not under this roof.” Mr. Lupin said. “Goodnight.” He walked out of the room, closing the door, but not all the way, just in case. He could never know if Mr. Riddle might sneak in; either into the boy’s mind, or into his bed.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentioned attempted sexual assault

“Attention all students and faculty. It is to be known that our most recent maths professor Tom Riddle has vacated the area, though we do not know where he is. He is dangerous and may attack you, as he has already attacked other students. Until we know where he is, we ask that you do not travel outside your classroom after headcount is taken every night and not before 6:30 in the morning. Even then, please always travel with another student.”

Mr. Dumbledore was giving announcements for that day. He was a reclusive man that only came out of the Big House for public events and meals. He didn’t have a classroom or even a class. No one knew why he stayed with the campgrounds, only that he was to be respected more than any other teacher. 

“Furthermore,” he continued, “We are going to replace the math professor. I would like to introduce Professor McGonagall.

A tall woman walked up, with many looking shocked that she was even there at all, as they hadn’t noticed her before. She was an older looking woman, and her face was pinched and narrow, but her whole demeanor commanded respect. Her head was held high and her back was almost impossible straight, and her eyes contained more knowledge than anyone else in the room. 

“Hello students,” she said, with a voice that was quick and to the point. “You best be prepared to work, as I will not make this an easy class.” Usually, this would have been met with several groans and complaints from the students, but no one said anything. They were all intimidated by their new teacher, who gave off the air of a soldier who was about to fight a battle.

“And that’s all for the announcements,” said Dumbledore “Carry on with your classes,”

They all began to leave, trailing out the first classes of the day. As they left, whispers rang throughout the students, all asking one question: Who was the person that Riddle attacked?

)-(

Draco Malfoy had never felt more alone than he did at the moment. He had to appear at the announcements, listening to total strangers speculate on Tom, with no one to lean for support. It didn’t seem like Ron had told Harry or Hermione, and they seemed as oblivious as everyone else. Only Mr. Lupin glanced at him, and Ron gave him a tight squeeze after swordfighting. The only change from carrying on like a robot was his refusal to go to maths class.

Everyday when he should have been at McGonagall’s class, he snuck back to his cabin. He went out the back door where no one could see him and just sat down. Sometimes, when the pain was too much, he’d smoke, just to take his mind off of what happened.

And every weekend, where he used to spend all his time with Tom, he spent with Ron and sometimes the other two in the strawberry fields, just smoking and keeping up his nonchalant front.

He gossiped more with his family and talked less about himself. To say that Draco was numb was an understatement. His soul was almost quite literally out of his body.

)-(

Maths class was probably the hardest class Harry had ever taken. What was wrong with this crazy teacher? Did she really have to give about a pound of homework every night? Did she really expect a room full of ADHD teenagers to pay attention for an entire hour to maths? Yes, she did, and somehow, she managed to do this. No one knew how, but she kept everyone quiet and attentive the whole time. Not even the Ares kids could mess around. Most of her students were convinced that she had fought in some war; you could see the discipline and strength radiating off of her.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed to the Athena cabin, Hermione’s cabin. This was a nice place to study and do homework, since everyone in the cabin cared about classes. The cabin became something of a library after McGonnagal had appeared.

Some people had been able to keep up with the amount of homework she was giving, mostly the Athena cabin. Other than that, everyone was struggling. Especially Ron. Usually, after about ten minutes, he began to get frustrated. After that, it was only a matter of time before he was kicked out of the cabin for the day. Harry knew it was coming, and decided to just get as much homework done as he could before having to follow his friend out.

Today, Harry could see how bored and fed up his friend was. Ron was just sitting there, staring at his homework without any emotion. When Harry was moving on to the second page of homework, he turned back to observe his friends. Hermione was already done and had just started to read a book, and Ron was asleep, propping his head up with his arm. Then he began to snore. After about a minute, the volume had increased dramatically and everyone had turned to look at him. Ron’s snores were the only sound in the room, since everyone was busy looking extremely annoyed at him.

Then Hermione gave him a small nudge, which woke him up. “Wha- hwa- what-what!” he yelled as he quickly tried to stand up. He wasn’t successful, and he tripped over a book and fell into an Ares kid. This kid may have only been twelve, but the first rule of demigod survival was to never disturb an angry monster. The Ares kids were the closest thing the camp had to one. 

Before anyone could react, Ron was in a headlock, gasping for breath. Everyone around them had begun to cheer the Ares boy on. “FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!” could be heard all the way from the climbing wall. Then the head counselor for Athena, a tall, strong eighteen year old boy came to see what was happening. 

“Oh no, Malcolm’s coming,” Hermione whispered to Harry.

“Wait, who?” Harry whispered back.

Then he saw him. Harry had seen statues of Athena before, and he could definitely see the resemblance. His stormy gray eyes quickly scanned the scene before him, taking in every detail in the room. The Athena kids seemed to not have powers, but Harry wouldn’t be surprised if their extraordinary senses and perception were classified as one. Harry had seen the look in his eyes before, on Hermione, the night her plan saved them from becoming Harpy food.

Then Malcolm pushed the Ares kid off of Ron and scooped him up. The little kid was screaming bloody murder at this point, and who taught this kid to cuss? They needed to be arrested immediately. Malcolm walked outside and about a minute later, came back in without the kid. 

“Okay everyone, sorry about the disturbance, go back to studying,” he said calmly. “Not you, Weasley. I know you started this. Get out.” He turned and went back to his desk.

Hermione gave an annoyed sigh and packed up her books. Harry had picked up Ron’s bag and handed it to him. The three of them walked out of the cabin while everyone snickered and giggled as Ron walked out.

“Oi, shut up!” he yelled, which only made everyone laugh harder.

Once they were outside, Ron began kicking at one of the columns of the cabin. The Athena cabin was designed like a small greek temple, so it had several stone columns in the front, and in between them was the door. 

He sat down against one for about five minutes before getting bored, and wandered off to go find Draco. At least the git appreciated him.

He strode off with no clear direction, just wandering about the camp looking for the short pale blonde hair that he had seen only on Luna and Draco. After walking around for a bit, he finally saw some. He turned to see Draco, wearing a dark gray hoodie and smoking a cigarette, just sitting next to the Persephone cabin. Ron had decided against going to talk to him. Whenever Ron was in a horrible mood, which was obviously what Draco was feeling, he would rather be left alone. So he decided to go to the Arena to spar against a dummy. 

Walking in, he saw that the Arena had a few people in it, most being in their own cabins or in the Athena cabin. Grabbing a machete, he walked up to a vacant dummy, rather new, but sturdy. He decided to work on the styles that he hadn’t quite got yet, tuning out everyone. 

He started small, combinations coming to him, working them into his natural style, with not the best results, but passable. He wasn’t really focusing, only thinking back on Draco, flashes of that night, bits of him throughout the week. 

He remembered what Tom had asked of Draco, a present? In his own classroom at night? He could almost taste the suspiciousness when the boy had told him, but knew how much he valued Tom, so he held his mouth. After all, who was to say that Tom was really a weirdo, they only didn’t like him because he was boring. 

_ But then, waiting for Draco for around twenty minutes. _

His swings became slightly more lazy, but he regained himself.

_ Seeing the blonde running. _

He was sweating more than usual.

_ His face was streaked with tears, his pale skin flushed so red he could’ve sworn it was blood. _

Wild swings.

_ He fell into Ron’s arms, hyperventilating, having a panic attack. _

He nicked himself with his weapon, but didn’t notice.

_ The screams of, “Don’t ever get that man, he’s. . . he. . . just don’t,” absolutely fearing the worst. _

His breathing became heavier and his vision clouded over with sweat and unshed tears.

_ Hearing Draco saying, “Don’t,” over and over, his voice quiet and cracking. _

He was feral, more animal than man.

_ Draco, this uptight, infallible creature, crying, looking so unkempt, his clothes were all ruffled, his shirt and trousers were nearly half taken off, the bright red mark against his cheek, and most of all, the fresh and bleeding bite mark on his neck, and deep down, he knew. Even when Draco wouldn’t answer him, he knew.  _

The dummy’s head layed on the floor, and Ron collapsed with it. His hands were red with his own blood, face wet with tears and sweat. His bright red hair was as messy as Harry’s. Even as other people were staring at him, he never noticed them. He was wrapped up in his own head and couldn’t escape. He knew what happened to his friend, and he also knew what would happen if Riddle ever showed his face around any of them, especially Draco again. 

Ron Weasley promised to rip the ex-teachers heart out himself.

)-(

About a week later, nothing changed. Not from Draco’s perspective. He still went from class to class like a robot, stiff and without any emotion. He still hung around the Snakes, but he still wasn’t talking much, not since… the other night. He still skipped math everyday to smoke behind his cabin. He still hadn’t talked to Ron since the night it happened.

Draco felt nothing but pain. He had poured out his soul, spilled secrets he had never told anyone, all to be used like a toy. The agony he felt was beyond words, yet part of him longed to see his friend again, part of him wanted to forgive him. He thought they had become close. Was it all a lie? How could he be so stupid? Part of him also felt like it was his fault. Why would he ever tell someone what he told Tom? Why did he trust him in the first place? Who else was just using him? 

Of course, Draco didn’t tell anyone about what he was feeling, or about what had happened, except for Mr. Lupin. What was he supposed to say, “I made friends with the weirdo teacher and almost raped me”? No one would believe it, and if they did, they’d probably say it was his fault. Everyone else seemed to know that something was wrong with Tom, but he was too far gone to notice until it was too late.

Eventually, he just couldn’t handle the gossip during dinner and discreetly left, shoveling the last of his food into his mouth. He walked over to his cabin, grabbed a towel, toiletries, and a change of clothes, then walked over to the showers. He turned on the water, then before even allowing it to heat up, walked in. He let the water spray onto his face, the coldness dripping down his body, stinging against his wound. 

As the water went up in temperature, he allowed himself to let go little by little, until he was on the shower floor and couldn't feel how hot the water was. He began to breathe heavily, wrapping his arms around his body, holding himself together. He sobbed and screamed until his throat was hoarse, He even began to scratch at his body, leaving long red marks with burst blood vessels just underneath the skin. He tried to clean himself, scrubbing himself raw and bright red. He felt dirty, even as he felt like another layer of skin was scraped away. He was disgusting, absolutely filthy, he had to escape his body, the only way to be clean again was to escape his body.

His mind was clouded, he could no longer hear the spray of the water, just his mind repeating  _ dirty, filthy, disgusting _ . He could no longer feel the scalding shower, just the oils in his hair, on his face, the dirt in the tight crevices of his person. He couldn’t even feel when Pansy rushed into the showers, couldn’t hear her gasp and scream for Blaise, couldn’t feel her try to drag his body away from the showers, or when Blaise jumped into help. 

“What the hell is wrong with him?! Blaise, what the fuck happened?!” Pansy’s voice rang out in his head. She sounded like his head was completely underwater, but just right at the surface.

“I don’t know, just try to get his clothes on, I’ll go and call one of the teachers,” Blaise responded, but before he could run off, Draco grabbed his hand. “Wait. Get Lupin,” he mumbled, now calming down, but crashing fast. Blaise just nodded and ran off.

Draco then turned to Pansy, trying to help her with his fresh clothes, listening to her concerned mutters, and her scolds of, “Gods, I’m not an Apollo child Draco.” He smiled fondly. He appreciated her trying to lighten the mood.

They managed to get his underwear and shirt on, and were tugging on his pants when Blaise came back with Mr. Lupin.

“Zabini, Parkinson, call Argus immediately,” Mr. Lupin said. Blaise ran out of the showers as fast as he could. Lupin turned to Pansy. “What happened here?” A large amount of concern leaked into his voice.

Draco couldn’t quite hear what she said, since she was speaking very fast, obviously very nervous, and Draco began to feel very heavy. He could barely move and his eyes couldn’t seem to stay open. Blaise had just ran in with Argus, the multi-eyed head of security. Blaise had just started yelling something like “You’re gonna be okay,” before Draco passed out.

)-(

Ron was walking around the climbing wall when he heard Hermione run up behind him. She was looking extremely concerned. “Hey Mione, what is it?” “By the Pegasus stables. . . they found one of them dead! It looked like it was drained of some of it’s blood!” They both had twin looks of utter horror, echoing their looks from three years ago, when it first had happened. 

They ran off to go back to look, to confirm what Hermione had just said.

“Has anyone told the teachers yet?” Ron asked as they ran.

“Not sure, I was there when it was first found, I was looking for you.” 

They then ran into Harry, who was looking quite frantic. “Oh my gods, have you guys hea-” “Yes, we heard about the pegasus already.” “No, that’s not what I’m talking about, someone said they saw Malfoy getting carried by Argus and Mr. Lupin to the Big House. His neck was all scratched up.” Ron and Hermione looked at each other exasperated. Was everything that happened today going to be big news?

Deciding to just tell Mr. Lupin about the dead pegasus instead of double checking (and also to make sure Draco was alright), they changed course and went over to the Big House.

When they made it to the porch, they saw that the door was open. They walked in and looked around. Usually the Big House was bright and cheerful, but today, the combination of a cloudy day and all the bad news made it seem gloomy and sad, especially since it was completely quiet inside. They couldn’t see anyone inside.

They walked down the halls, checking each door for any sign of another person. Most of the rooms had locked doors or were empty. No one to be seen. Then Hermione piped up. “Guys, I hear someone,” she whispered, “Keep quiet.” She was leaning against an open door. Because they rarely came into the Big House, they had never seen this door before. Ron and Harry squeezed in next to Hermione, trying their best to hear what was going on in the room.

“-found him like this,” said a slightly familiar voice, “I was called by Pansy to help, and we dragged him out. We didn’t see anyone in there with him, so maybe they ran away.”

“I swear, I’m gonna kill whoever-” someone who was also slightly familiar began.

“Calm yourself, Ms. Parkinson,” they heard Mr. Lupin’s voice say, “I don’t believe someone did this to him.”

“So what, he did this to himself?!” the first voice said.

“Yes Mr. Zabini, that is what I believe happened. He’s still unconscious, so there’s no getting an answer out yet, but he’s recovering, so he should be better soon. When he awakes, then maybe he’ll tell us the truth.”

“Fuck that!” Pansy yelled. “There is no way he’d do that! He’s completely normal!”

“Yes, I’m aware, but sometimes people just-” they couldn’t hear much after that. Someone had begun breathing rather heavily.

“Ron, stop! I can’t hear,” Hermione whispered.

“Stop what?”

“Breathing so loud!” she whispered more harshly.

“It’s not me.” It was Harry. He didn’t know why, but he was feeling worried, no, concerned maybe? He knew Draco, not well though, and he guessed that he just considered him a friend now. He hated whenever a friend was suffering, so maybe that’s why he was so concerned?

Then Ron stepped forward slightly, right on Hermione’s foot, causing her to give a small yelp, then immediately cover her mouth with her hand. All noise in the room immediately ceased. Footsteps could be heard, getting slowly louder. The three of them quickly shuffled off the door, standing up and trying to look natural. Then the door opened. 

“Ah, good morning. How can I help you?” Mr. Lupin said cheerfully, as if the conversation they just heard didn’t happen.

“Uh, we can come back later, it’s okay.” Harry said, starting to turn away.

“No, that’s alright, We were just finishing up here. Now, what can I do for you today?”

“Um, well, we found a dead Pegasus, sir.” Harry said.

Lupin frowned. “Well, that's unusual. I can’t say I’ve heard of a Pegasus dying in camp before.” He began to mutter to himself about what may have caused this. While he was doing that, Blaise and Pansy walked to the corner of the room, turned towards each other and away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They had obviously interrupted an important conversation. 

“Not to worry, I’ll take care of this. I’ll be right back.” Lupin said as he walked out the door. Both groups looked at each other awkwardly. Blaise and Pansy looked incomplete without Draco standing with them. Harry wondered what it would be like if one of his friends weren’t there. The gap where there had once been a full person, now empty, would feel sad and wrong.

“We heard about Draco.” Ron said quietly after a while. “Hope he gets better.”

“Yeah you heard, stalking little-” Pansy began angrily.

“Thanks Ronald,” Blaise interrupted. He put a hand on Pansy’s shoulder. “He’s okay, he’s just asleep right now.”

Ron visibly deflated with relief, as did Harry and Hermione, but not as noticeably. 

“Wha. . . what  _ happened _ ?” he asked.

“Um, we’re not sure,” Blaise said. Pansy was still too upset to talk. “We found him in the showers. His skin was red, and his neck was covered in scratches. The water was super hot. Lupin thinks he did it to himself, but I just don’t know.”

Ron’s face suddenly paled to an ashen grey. He stormed out, with the rest looking at him. They stayed silent for the next minute as they heard him sit against the wall outside and scream. When he came back in, his face had returned to a healthier colour, but remained stricken within his expression. Pansy pounced on this.

“You know something,” she stated with startling ferocity. “Tell us. Now.” Ron just shook his head. “Can’t. You’re going to have to ask him.” He remained silent even when they continued to prod at him. Eventually Mr. Lupin came back in.

“Alright, I have some business to attend to regarding the matter of the dead pegasus. I’ll come back later, but you all may remain here for the time being, but please get some rest after. It has been a. . . trying day.” He left once again, and the teens just sat there, helpless to do anything but wait for Draco to wake up. He was lying in a bed in the far corner of the room. If you hadn’t been looking for him, you probably wouldn’t have noticed he was there. Just like Blaise said, his neck was covered in scratches. There were a few on his face as well, which wasn’t red as described, but had softened out into a light pink. He had gotten burned, apparently from the hot shower water. 

Four of the five conscious people in the room had no idea who could have done this, and they refused to believe it could have been intentionally done by Draco. Ron, on the other hand, had some idea. From what he remembered the night Draco had the break down, he was shaken up badly after coming back from Riddle’s cabin. He didn’t want to find Tom, yelling “No!” after he was mentioned. Then the next day, Dumbledore announced that Riddle was dangerous and had done something bad to a student. Then this happens. Obviously, Riddle had something to do with this. Either he tried to finish Draco off in the showers, or the thought of him led Draco to self harm, maybe even attempting suicide. He couldn’t tell anyone about this, not even Draco, but he would never forget what that monster did to his friend. Even if he didn’t know exactly what happened, he would make sure it never happened again.

The awkwardness between the two groups was growing too big. Ron had had enough. “Well, hope Draco gets better. We should go.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Pansy stepped in front of the door. “You haven’t answered me. You know something, I know you do. Now spill it.” She said this very calmly, too calmly. Blaise walked up to Ron from behind.

“Yeah man, this is important.” he said, calmly and slowly walking towards him. Harry reached into his pocket, grabbing one of his home-made smoke bombs. Hermione looked back and forth between the two Hades kids, a plan forming in her head. “He’s our friend. We deserve to know.”

“No you don’t!” Ron quickly turned to face Blaise. “This is private! If Draco wants to tell, he will.”

Pansy and Blaise shared a look, then looked back to the others. The nearby shadows began to warp. All at once, Ron pulled out a handful of seed bombs, Harry grabbed his smoke bomb, and Hermione pulled a knife from her belt. Then everyone heard a faint noise. It sounded like a cough. 

Everyone turned to the bed in the corner. Draco was sitting up, looking tired and confused. “What the… what are you doing?” he asked quietly, as if it hurt to talk, which it probably did.

Blaise and Pansy rushed to his bed, causing the shadows to behave normally now. Ron, Harry, and Hermione sheathed their weapons and joined them. Their conflict was forgotten instantly, because Draco was what was important now.

“Are you alright?” “Do you need anything?” “Do you want us to get Mr. Lupin?” Their voices all clamored together, trying to take care of Draco.

Overwhelmed, he just stared at them with his brows raised. “Um. . . no. . .” he trailed off. “What are you lot doing here?” He asked the trio. Hermione jumped in. “Well, we heard about a dead pegasus, then we heard about you, so we came here to tell Mr. Lupin about the pegasus, then we all came here to check up on you.”

Draco had a flush that became very apparent on his pale skin. “Oh, well, uh, thank you!”

“Of course, you’re our friend,” Harry said. Draco looked at him, surprised, but said nothing. 

“Are you okay, mate?” Blaise asked, full of concern. “You don’t look so good.”

“Don’t worry, feels worse than it looks.” Draco said. Then he started laughing, but no one joined him. Harry may not have been very observant, but this wasn’t normal, right? This looked serious, but maybe it was good that he felt strong enough to make jokes, right?

“So, what happened? Who did this to you?” Hermione asked.

Draco turned towards her very seriously. “Your mother.” Then out of him burst out a laugh, but it sounded fake and rehearsed. Once again, no one joined in.

“You fucking git, this is serious!” Pansy yelled. Normally, it’s not a good idea to yell at a sick or injured person, but Draco was Pansy’s best friend since they were very young. She would protect him at all costs. “Who did this?!”

Draco sighed. “I did, plain and simple really,” he said while examining his nails. 

“NO! I refuse to completely believe that. Weasley was acting up, so I know that there is something worse going on!”

Draco looked at Ron, betrayal clear on his face.

“Hey, I didn’t say a word, just that if you wanted them to know, you would tell them yourself.”

He sighed, then started to speak rather robotically. “Riddle betrayed my trust. Weasley saw the aftermath, so that’s why he knows. I’ve needed a good cry for weeks now, so the incident in the shower gave me a damn good reason. I just wanted to be clean.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word, but he hoped no one would notice.

“Clean from what?” Harry asked. 

_ Oh no. _ There is absolutely no way that he could say what happened truthfully without a complete mental breakdown. Should he lie? That seemed like a good option, but Blaise and Pansy could tell when he was lying, Hermione was too smart to be fooled, and Ron already has some idea what happened, so the only one he’d fool is oblivious little Harry. Maybe if he told a fragment of the truth his friends wouldn’t be suspicious and might drop the subject.

“He attacked me. Riddle. He called me to his cabin and attacked me.” Tears threatened to spill from Draco’s eyes. “I wanted to forget what happened, but I just forgot what I was doing. I just started to panic. I thought I could wash him off of me, but I just, just can’t.” He started to silently weep. Tears streamed down his face.

“He wanted to give me a present for Valentine’s Day, you know. Gave me this small box, but when I opened it, it was empty, then it just happened.” Draco started to giggle hysterically. “Just imagine finding the time to pick out a gift box, then just beautifully wrap it without putting anything inside. It would’ve been a great prank.”

They all looked concerned for Draco. He continued to laugh until he saw them all staring.

“Oh what, can’t I find a bit of levity in this situation,” he snapped. “It’s easier this way after all, so if I can laugh at myself, you should be able to laugh too.”

Pansy spoke up. “Darling, it’s not. . . healthy to just ignore this, and using humour to cope  _ is _ ignoring the situation at hand.”

Draco crossed his arms. “But it’s what I want to do with it.”

“Draco, mon chéri, you need  _ help _ .”

Draco froze at the pet name.

“Please,” Pansy pleaded, grasping his hands. “If not for you, then for me, Blaise, your friends and family. We can’t lose you yet, and this-” she gestured to him, “- is killing you.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?!” Draco yelled. “Tell Lupin?! ‘Talk about my feelings’?!” He gave shaky gasp for air. “Won’t change it, nothing will.” He would have cried, but he felt too empty for tears. He felt like his chest was ripped open, and all he could do was stare at the hole. 

Pansy grabbed his chin and turned his face to look at her. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to the gods that I, no we, will all help you through this, you just have to  _ let go _ .”

And so he did. Draco bawled into her arms like a little boy who just scraped his knee, and soon felt the others’ arms come up for a huge group hug, with some hands patting and some rubbing his back.

He continued that way for around twenty minutes, and he eventually calmed down. He wiped his eyes, then noticed how everyone seemed to pile on the tiny bed with him. “You know this rickety thing is going to collapse under all this weight, right?” he huffed. They all just laughed, and for the first time in a good while, his laugh was genuine.

)-(

Later on, while he recovered, each one of them would come in, usually by themselves, sometimes with each other. They never mentioned that day, or the incidents leading up to it.

)-(

Finally, he was discharged. While it wasn’t long, it felt like forever for him, but at least he could avoid maths with a proper excuse for the time being. He agreed to talk to someone about his troubles, and Mr. Lupin set a time and date, once a week, Wednesdays, at 5:00, then off to dinner. He couldn’t say he was excited to talk about what had happened, but he was told it’d make him feel better. Couldn’t do any harm, right?

Wrong, for the next two weeks (which was admittedly two sessions, but he didn’t care), each Wednesday was a special brand of torture designed specifically to bring him mental torment. He only let a little information pass through his lips, explaining his whole relationship with Tom, but each time, it felt like he was pulling at his own teeth. What he said in Tom’s class was only supposed to be for his ears, and now he felt like he was being pressured to spill his soul out again. Well, he’d show them. Draco vowed to give as little detail as possible. Each time his mind wandered back to the classroom, he felt like he just gulped down Tom’s tea, which was obviously drugged. This was probably something he should have said to the therapist, but he refused to.

After Draco had finished giving what little information he gave, the therapist would go on and on about what the interaction and relationship between the two caused in Draco’s brain. He knew it was supposed to be helpful, but to Draco, it all sounded condescending. Apparently, with his dad who “never had time for him” (as told by Draco) left him with a desire, no “need” to talk to someone about all his “problems”, so naturally, being the poor, sad little boy he was, he happily spilled out his deepest darkest secrets to his “seemingly kind and concerned teacher”. It made him seem stupid and wimpy. Sure, it was kind of true, it was great to talk to someone, since his father was an abusive piece of shit, so yeah, once Tom showed concern, he began to tell him things. He wasn’t a little, naive boy, though. He wasn’t “flung into the arms of a stranger” as the therapist put it. He knew Tom, and he told him things back. Now, however, Draco wasn’t sure if he told the truth about what he told him. Looking back, he really could see how foolish and naive he was. That was the only thing he learned from these sessions: how much of an idiot he is.

It didn’t help that all his friends were walking on eggshells around him. Pansy and Blaise stuck close with him, only leaving when they needed to go to separate classes or when he wanted to walk in the Strawberry Fields, a place he quickly relayed to them as his “leave me the fuck alone” space. The trio hung around him, with Hermione always talking his head off about meaningless, albeit interesting facts. Ron always had a pack on him, and always was there if he needed him, abandoning whatever he was doing just to be there for him. Harry had taken a special interest in him, doing all his bidding, yes, but also making the effort to connect with him, which was a lot easier than both probably suspected. The both played Center Forward when it came to football, and compared their strategies, finding out they had similar mindsets when it came to their plans. They also both hated maths (though obviously for different reasons), and both loved Monster Handling. They debated on how to win in sword fights, with Draco using his battle against Ron as an example. Within those couple days, they became fast friends, though it was still very clear that Harry was weary of the blonde. 

)-(

Remus was at his wits end. The whole ordeal with Riddle and Draco was taking a lot of time, understandably, and then there was the dead, blood drained pegasus situation, and he just felt like tearing his hair out. With the pegasus, he learned that there had been a similar instance just three years ago, and he wasn’t sure what had caused its death. Draco on the other hand, was completely different. Therapy didn’t seem to do anything, and just made him retreat into his shell. It was like the boy didn’t want to get better, but he knew he did. He honestly didn’t know what to do. On top of that, there had been conversations of Odin’s Staff going missing, which, while it didn’t directly affect the Greeks, it lined up with the prophecy that he had received decades prior.

The director of Camp Valhalla had sent him a raven, as they had a suspicion that it was tied to the prophecy, too. He had already sent notice to the other camps, as well, and only the French base for the House of Life had answered to his calls. They had decided to put one person from each base, with them all meeting at the Greek demigod school. Proceedings would go from there, but Remus was already stressed out as it was. Perhaps this meeting would solve the problems out in the world so he could better understand what was going on inside the camp. Well, he didn’t really believe that, but the thought helped keep him sane. The groups just were better separate, since they didn’t understand each other at all. Camp Jupiter thought the Greek Survival school was too lazy, the Greek survival school thought the House of Life was weird, and everyone just steered clear of Camp Valhalla, as they were rumored to be completely insane. Remus sighed.  _ Oh well, we’ll figure it out what to do in a few weeks  _ he thought. He didn’t believe it, but it helped keep him sane. He had already told them that he was only going to send his oldest campers, so the 17 and up group, and fully expected they do the same, as this was a dangerous quest involving three camps. 

Their mission would be to investigate, report about the condition of Odin’s spear and return. Keep it out of enemy hands if necessary. They had no idea what they were up against, so only the best of the best would be allowed to go. Their enemy could be anyone from a mortal who had seen too much to a god, if there was an enemy. Of course, what they knew were rumors only, but Camp Valhalla reported a strange surge of energy near the camp, and multiple campers had seen a glowing blue spear in their dreams. Hopefully, the two were unrelated, but Remus knew that it was still a possibility. He also had a hunch that many terrible things were coming to his camp. He hoped he was wrong, but he rarely was.

Anyway, back to the more simple situations. He had a hunch that the pegasus was connected to Riddle, considering it was just a week apart, but he had no proof of that. Until then, he just had to warn the students of monsters in the woods and carry on. Draco on the other hand. . . he sighed. 

“What am I going to do about that boy, Padfoot,” he complained to Sirius. It was the end of another long day and they were laying in bed together, just complaining to each other about their day. 

“He had something horrible happen to him, and I’m supposed to help him, but how do I help him if he doesn’t want to be helped.”

“You don’t know that. From what I’ve been getting, he’s responding how a normal 14 year old boy does when faced with this. Plus, he always comes out of there crying, so I’m figuring that there has been _ some _ progress.” Sirius said with a yawn.

“Progress or further damage? This boy has been through too much. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring someone in.” Remus rolled over, facing away from Sirius. He stared at the wall, hoping an answer would present itself but knowing it wouldn’t. He felt an arm wrapping around him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius said. “You’re doing just fine. This is the best option for him. It may not be working now, but it could help him in the long run.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Remus said, not feeling better. He wanted to help this child, but he had too much to do. He was just so tired. Was he doing enough? “I’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“Take your time, love.” Sirius yawned. “Good night.” Then he turned out the lights and they drifted off to sleep.

)-(

Draco awoke the next morning to find that the entire cabin was empty, save for him. When he started to walk towards the door to get ready to take a shower, he saw a note taped there.

_ Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy. _

_ I have a new idea for you to feel safer at camp, especially with all the unpleasantness going on. Please meet me by the Big House at 12:00 pm, sharp. _

_ Thank you very much, _

_ Mr. Lupin _

He was confused, and rather upset that they were changing schedule so quickly, but went along with it, going on with the little part of his day as usual.

When it came time for him to head over, he did, but made sure to school his face into one of passive neutrality. The perfect marble statue that was expected of the Snakes.

Getting there, he saw the tall pretty boy, Cedric, standing next to Mr. Lupin. He immediately put his guard up, approaching them carefully, trying to hear what they were talking about, but gave up as they saw him right away.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, thank you for coming. So, as you have heard, there was an incident regarding a pegasus being drained of its blood. It has come to my attention that this has happened three years ago, and since it had barely been a week since your, um, attack,” he couched, “that we need to be protective over you. Riddle is a child of Nemesis, and since you rejected him and had his name tarnished, he will see this as an attack on his person no matter how justified it is in our eyes. His powers will be after the person who has slighted him, and since that is you, we have felt the need to get you a. . . bodyguard, more or less.”

No matter what Lupin had told him, Draco knew what was really going on. Digory was a hired friend, just another therapist. How could Lupin be so stupid, picking the nicest guy in the camp as a bodyguard? Anyone with a brain could see through this. What did he expect was gonna happen, anyway? They just hit it off and he spills his soul? No way! Draco couldn’t stand to do that again, not after Tom. Besides, how could he trust this guy? For all he knew, he could be using the “nice guy” approach to get in his pants. He doubted it, but he was still mad. However, his stoic expression remained. He’d give the bloke a piece of his mind later.

“Anyway, I’ll be leaving now. History club’s about to start soon. Have a nice day, boys!” Lupin said as he walked towards the Athena cabin, where the club meetings were held. Once he was out of sight, Draco dropped his emotionless mask and turned towards Cedric.

“Look, mate, I know what you and Lupin are doing, and I’m not going with it. I’m not some little kid that needs his mommy. And I don’t need you as some hired friend.”

“No, I’m just your bodyguard, but we can be friends if you like.” Cedric tried to act confused to throw Draco off, but he was a terrible actor. Too damn friendly. Did this dude ever stop smiling? Sure, it was a very nice smile, but Draco was too annoyed to care.

“Please! If I needed a bodyguard, they’d have got someone tough like the Athena bloke, Malcolm, not some Aphrodite bag of sparkles like you!” Draco was getting really tired of this pretty boy. “Just stay away from me!” 

Draco started to walk away, but Cedric was right behind him. He walked faster, but he was right behind him.  _ Jeez, this guy’s determined. Was he paid to do this or something?  _ Draco thought. He continued to walk fast, trying to just ignore him, but he just kept coming. It even sounds like he’s getting closer. Then Draco broke into a run. So did Cedric. Draco sprinted across the volleyball courts, through the arts and crafts area, past the canoe lake and around the Ares cabin. Everyone stared at him and Cedric, but Draco didn’t care. He just had to lose this guy! He turned to look behind him, and he saw that Digory was about five feet behind him. Draco was running as fast as he could and was exhausted, and the bloke behind him looked like he was going on a casual jog around the block, not even breaking a sweat. Draco knew he couldn’t keep this on forever, so he decided to hide. Looking around, he could see the sword fighting arena, the cabins, and the forest. He chose the forest. Soon, he was dodging trees and hopping over bushes, trying to find somewhere to get lost. He saw a rock with trees on either side, which he could hide behind, but Cedric wouldn’t be able to see. Perfect!

He jumped over the rock and quickly slid behind it, making sure he couldn’t be seen. Less then a second later, Cedric hopped over the rock and continued running into the forest. He stopped quickly, looked to the left and right, then continued running to the right. Draco gave a sigh of relief and exhaustion. He did it! With any luck, he’d make it out of the woods without being found. He started gasping for air behind the rock, still tired from his run. After a minute, he stood and started walking towards the entrance to the forest. Then behind him he heard “Hi!”

“AHHHHH!” Draco jumped and turned around. There was Pretty Boy Diggory, leaning against one of the trees next to the rock. He couldn’t even last one second before he was found? Seriously? 

“Are you okay?” Cedric asked with concern. “You were running pretty fast, are you tired?”

“I don’t need your company and I don’t want it! Now BEAT IT!” Draco yelled. He was at his wits end. He couldn’t stand being treated like a child. Did this guy know who he was?! He was a Snake! They took care of themselves! Draco began to walk away. Cedric walked right next to him. Draco knew he couldn’t lose him, so he might as well ignore him. This would’ve been a fine plan, if Cedric hadn’t started talking himself. He talked about just about everything. His favorite camp activities (arts and crafts), his favorite sport, (basketball), his family, his cabin mates, the weather. Honestly, why did he even try? Draco wasn’t responding and had no intention to. Was it to fill the awkward silence? Try to make friends? Simply to hear himself talk? Who cared? It was getting old really quickly. Draco has just about had it.

“STOP!” Draco yelled as he stopped walking. Cedric stopped next to him, silent and concerned.

“Are you okay. Draco?” Cedric asked. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re the fucking matter! Why’d you have to follow me?! I’m not a kid who needs to be protected! I don’t need a friend! What I need is for you to get your ass out of my sight!”

Cedric looked hurt. Draco could tell this wasn’t an act. If Draco had said something like this to Pansy or Blaise, he'd probably get the same reaction: they’d look like a kicked puppy. Why was he so hurt? They didn’t know each other. They weren’t friends. 

Even if Cedric was hurt by this, Draco was still mad, so he decided to cut him a little deeper.

“Why are you even doing this in the first place?! I know Lupin put you up to it, so what’d he promise you?!” Draco walked closer to Cedric, until he was directly in front of him, their noses almost touching. “Is he paying you?! Promising A’s on all your tests?! Extra downtime?!” Draco paused and moved slightly closer. Cedric still looked hurt, possibly even more so, but Draco could tell he was collecting himself. “Or are you in this for your own reasons? ‘Cuz so was Riddle! I don’t need another creep in my life, and I don’t need a bodyguard! Now go back to Lupin before I throw you through the shadows to the other side of the country!” He then began to walk away. That better have worked, because Draco was out of ideas. After a few seconds, Cedric still hadn’t responded or moved.  _ Finally!  _ Draco thought.  _ Some peace and quiet!  _ Draco was just about to push Diggory from his mind, before he heard something.

“You’re right, Lupin told me to do this.” Cedric said, his voice even, masking most of the pain. “But I chose to do it. I didn’t ask for anything.” Draco turned around. That’s what they always say. “I noticed you were in pain, long before the incident in the showers. I thought you could use someone to talk to.”

“THE LAST PERSON WHO JUST WANTED TO TALK WAS RIDDLE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!” Draco was furious now.

“Yeah, Lupin told me. I’m so sorry about that. I can’t imagine what it would have been like.” Cedric walked forward slowly, raising an arm to put a hand on Draco’s shoulder, but Draco flinched away. “Just so you know, I’d never do that to anyone, especially someone who had just gone through it. I’m-” Cedric took a deep breath.

“I’m asexual. And it’s completely wrong and disgusting, what you had to go through. If you need someone to talk to, just know I’m here, but I’m not gonna make you talk if you don’t want to.” Draco looked away. His rage melted into guilt. This idiotic pretty boy just wanted to help after all. How was he stupid enough to scream at the most handsome and most friendly boy on the planet?

Cedric wasn’t finished. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, but maybe running full speed through the forest isn’t the best way to get to know someone.” He said with a smile. Draco gave a small chuckle, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. They heard a conch horn in the distance. “Come on. Time for dinner. I’ll walk you back, but can we actually talk? I can’t stand awkward silence.” 

“Sure. I’m really sorry.” Draco said, his head down.

“No, that’s fine.” Cedric said, smiling. “Anyone in your shoes would’ve done the same. Now come on! I can smell the hot dogs!”

After all that, after hours running around the camp and through the woods, Draco hadn’t lost Cedric as planned, but things rarely turned out as planned. That doesn’t mean that they can’t be meaningful all the same. Draco had made a tentative… acquaintance with Cedric. At least he knew his new “bodyguard” wasn’t a creep. He was a very kind guy, so at least he had someone to talk to, if he wanted. He had other friends, though, so he didn’t think he'd really have much time or thought for Cedric, but who cares? They had to spend some time together, so it was good to know he was a good person.


	7. Chapter Six

Cedric opened the front door of the Big House. In a cozy green armchair sat Mr. Lupin, his Greek History teacher. He had called him in for some reason. Cedric wasn’t sure why, he knew he hadn’t done anything to get him in trouble, it wasn’t time for the Head Counselor Meeting (that this Sunday), and things seemed too peaceful for him to be called for a quest. Most people in his situation would be nervous, nervous of being caught about something they probably hadn’t done, but Cedric was curious and a little excited. He’d become something of a leader around the camp since he’d become Head Counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, so he had been entrusted with greater responsibility. He was glad to be of help to his teachers, so he assumed this was another request of his services.

“Ah, Cedric, thank you for coming!” Mr. Lupin said, drinking a cup of tea. “Please, sit down.”

“Well thanks for calling me.” Cedric said as he sat down.

“So, you see, well, how do I begin…” Lupin set down his cup. “Have you heard of Draco Malfoy, the fourth year?”

“Umm, oh yeah!” Cedric said, remembering their brief run in before dinner a while ago. “Persephone guy, blonde hair, kinda quiet, right? Yeah, he’s cool!” 

“Yes, well, he’s been through something rather. . . traumatic. I don’t want to divulge details, but it is critical that we figure out how to help him. I would like you to find out how may further help him through this experience.”

Cedric looked at Mr. Lupin carefully. “So you just want me to be his friend so he tells me all his secrets,” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

He was sheepish. “Yes, sort of. Therapy isn’t working, and it seems he’s just getting worse and worse. We really want to help him, but we need the right tools to do so. Besides, we don’t need all his secrets, just the ones pertaining to Riddle. You understand, right? It’s all for his own good.”

“Well, I mean, it could work, but I don’t know,” Cedric frowned. “It just seems like we’re using the poor kid.”

“Well yes, but if we, well if you, do this, we can both figure out how to help him and prevent more of these… experiences from happening.” Lupin knew Cedric wouldn’t like it. He did have a point, it did seem like they were using Malfoy for information. However, it was crucial they get to the bottom of this situation. He knew Riddle did it, but there were still several questions. Why did he do it? Will he try to do it again? Will Draco’s refusal lead to further repercussions for the whole camp? If so, who will be the target? Draco feeling used, though not desirable, was a small price to pay for the safety of all the campers. Besides, there would be a chance Draco wouldn’t figure it out, and then he’d see Cedric as a friend. This was a key reason why Cedric was chosen: his way with people. He seemed to be the embodiment of kindness, and could put anyone at ease. His charmspeaking powers helped greatly, of course. He could coax someone as frightened as Draco into calmness simply by talking. Remus had seen it done before. This plan had to work; for Draco’s mental state and the safety of the camp.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll do it, but only if this actually helps him. But how would we be able to convince Draco to talk to me.”

Lupin paused. “Well I haven’t thought about that yet. Maybe, we can, um, tell him that you’re his bodyguard? Just let me figure it out, he’s coming over right now.”

He saw the blonde approaching and straightened up. He really was rather pretty, in a fae sort of way. Delicate overall, but lean muscles all over, giving him a rather nice swimmer’s physique. Dainty facial features, and sparkling grey eyes. Platinum blonde hair that laid straight across his forehead. It was a bit long, but he held it up in small black berets or hair ties. He hummed under his breath.

And then Draco started to walk away, then he yelled at him. Cedric wasn’t sure of what to do. He hadn’t even said a single word to him, and he started yelling about him being a “hired friend”. How did he know? Was it that obvious? Well, even though Cedric knew he was good at sword fighting, surely he wasn’t the first choice for a bodyguard. Someone like Sherman from Ares would be much better. He was the nice guy, and Lupin said he was a bodyguard. Anyone with half a brain could see through it!

Then Draco started to run. Cedric had no choice but to run after him. He kept right behind him, and Draco started to get tired, obviously running as fast as he could. Then he disappeared for a moment when they ran into the forest. He looked around and couldn’t see him, but heard breathing. He thought it came from the right, so that’s where he ran. Then Draco popped up from behind a rock. Cedric sighed. He almost lost his charge on the first day! Then he called out to him. From there Draco had some sort of breakdown. He yelled at him to stay away, said something about Riddle, and dodged around the fact that he’d been attacked. 

_ Oh shit.  _ Cedric had an idea about what happened and he hoped he was wrong. Was Draco assaulted? Maybe even raped? When he said he just wanted to talk, Draco responded with saying like “The last person that just wanted to talk was Riddle!” Now that Cedric thought about it, “I just want to talk” has definitely been used in some bad situations. It was obvious that Riddle wanted more than conversation. It made Cedric sick just thinking about it.

After Draco’s fit, Cedric felt awful. Of course he seemed like a bit of a creep, chasing him around the camp, trying to strike up a conversation after he found him, saying he “just wanted to talk” and “be his friend”. After all the poor kid had been through, he must have assumed everyone was out to get him. It only made sense. If Cedric was right, this boy needs more quiet, subtle support, maybe just saying he’d be there to talk. Cedric decided to try and make it right. He put a small amount of charmspeak into his voice, just enough to be a little more calming, and started to speak from the heart.

“Yeah, Lupin told me. I’m so sorry about that. I can’t imagine what it would have been like.” He paused. Draco looked down, and Cedric could see his eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears. Oh no his awful theory was right! “Just so you know, I’d never do that to anyone, especially someone who had just gone through it. I’m-” Cedric took a deep breath. Why not build a little trust?

“I’m asexual. And it’s completely wrong and disgusting, what you had to go through. If you need someone to talk to, just know I’m here, but I’m not gonna make you talk if you don’t want to.” 

Draco immediately calmed down. He refused to meet Cedric’s eyes, but Cedric was pleased by how it went. Maybe, just maybe, he had gained Draco’s trust. At least he was able to make it known he wouldn’t hurt him. He felt really sorry for him. No one should ever have to wonder if they’d be safe. Maybe if he went along with Lupin’s plan, he could try to piece Draco’s trust back together. 

)-(

Harry was confused. Cedric Diggory had been following Draco around a whole awful lot recently, and it bothered him for some reason. Maybe it was because of the football game before the start of the school year, where Diggory had talked so much that it had made it awkward. Harry knew that Draco was more introverted, so all the talking would make him uncomfortable. Harry just wanted his new friend to feel safe, and this pretty boy would probably accidentally bring up something uncomfortable, which was the last thing Draco needed.

_ Enough about Diggory _ Harry thought. Today was going to be fun. It was three in the afternoon and he had just finished his classes! So was he going to do homework and study for his test next week? No way! He was gonna hang out with his friends! Draco, Blaise, and Pansy invited Ron, Hermione, and him to hang out near the Big House after class, so that’s where they were going!

They walked up the porch and around the back where they usually hung out, right next to the strawberry patch. They didn’t see anyone else there. Then three shadowy holes opened up and their friends stepped out. Ron jumped back in alarm.

“What the hell?” he yelled. “Do you have to do that? Freaks me out man!”

“Hey, c’mon mate! You know it's cool!” Blaise walked up and gave Ron a high five.

“Yeah, how’d you coordinate that?” Hermione asked. 

“Practice, hun.” Pansy said, looking slightly intimidating as usual. “Practice.”

Behind Hermione, two figures walked up the porch steps. One was short and thin, with short blonde hair,and the other was tall, ashen skinned, and just seemed to bump into everything. It was Luna and Neville.

“Uh, who the hell are these guys?” Blaise asked.

“Longbottom’s the clumsy one, and there’s Lovegood, his girlfriend.” Pansy snickered. 

“Afternoon everyone.” Luna said. They weren’t too happy being misgendered as soon as they walked in, or thought to be dating Neville, but their small, calm smile was as present as ever. Neville, on the other hand, didn’t look very excited about being there anymore. His emotions were always easy to read, as they were always plainly displayed on his face. Pansy scared him, all the Snakes did, for that matter, as did a lot of other things. He was just scared in general.

“Uh, hey guys,” Harry said with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Hermione told us to come. She said she’d like someone to talk to that wasn’t smoking cigarettes left and right. Isn’t that right, Hermione?” Luna said. They were always very honest, but, as just shown, that could be a little annoying and problematic at times. 

“‘Mione, just ‘cuz you can’t take a hit doesn’t mean you blame us for it.” Ron said. Everyone laughed, and Draco gave him a high five. Hermione eventually joined in, blushing slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I didn’t really expect that to be said out loud, though.” She turned towards Luna with an exasperated expression. Luna just shrugged.

“Anyway, check this out!” Draco held up a football, or soccer ball for Americans. Ron, Harry, Pansy, and Blaise started cheering. They all loved the game. Luna clapped politely. Hermione gave a small sigh and shook her head. Neville stepped back a bit. He was known for being clumsy, especially bad at sword fighting, but he was worse with sports. Too much pressure. At least with sword fighting he had a chance to yield if things got bad.

“All right, all right, we need teams!” Draco yelled. “So who’s playing?”

Ron, Harry, Pansy, and Blaise jumped up and down, shouted, and began pumping each other up. Neville, Ron, and Luna remained silent. 

“Guess I’ll go, to make it even.” Luna said.

“Alright, thanks Luna!” Draco said. “Okay, okay time for teams. Ron and I are captains, so we’ll pick. I’ll take Pansy.”

She cheered and took her place next to her captain.

Ron looked at the remaining three players. “I get Blaise.”

Draco’s decision was easy. “I get Harry.”

Harry felt excited. He wasn’t picked last and was on a pretty good team.

“So I get Luna.” Ron didn’t sound very excited.

“Oh well.” They said. “Makes sense I was picked last, I don’t even know how to play.” They shrugged. Ron groaned. “I’ll figure it out somehow Ron, don’t worry.”

Harry laughed. Against a team that had two players that could play, this should be a piece of cake! Both teams got into a huddle to come up with a strategy.

“Okay guys, this should be pretty easy,” Draco said to Harry and Pansy. “Since Harry and I are forwards, our best bet is for us to be the ones to score.”

“Fine with me. I’m a defender anyway.” Pansy said.

“Let’s beat ‘em!” Harry yelled.

“‘Kay, one, two, three, break!” They took their positions on the grass near the strawberry patch.

Ron’s team was still preparing. “Okay Luna, Blaise and I kick the ball, and we kick it to the goal, past that tree. Your job is to stop the ball if it comes towards the bushes on this side. Don’t let it get past the bushes or they score.”

“Oh okay.” they say. “What do they get if they score?”

“Uh, what?” Ron asked. What was that supposed to mean?

“Do they get money if they score, or do we have to run around in a circle, or something if they score?” Luna asked. It sounded like a genuine question.

Blaise facepalmed and gave a sharp exhale. “Luna, they just get a point.”

“Yeah, and whoever has the most points wins.” Ron added.

“Oh okay. But what do they get if they win?” Luna asked.

“Who cares, it’s just a game!” Blaise was getting a little fed up.

“Oh okay. So I just stand here?”

“Yep, just don’t let the ball get past you.” Ron was getting fed up, too.

“Okay I won’t.” Luna said with their calm little smile, swaying left to right, looking at the little flowers in the bushes.

They started to play, and while Blaise and Ron were a good match for Harry and Draco, they couldn’t get past Pansy while the other two had more luck with Luna. Hermione and Neville tried to keep score, but with how quickly Harry and Draco took the lead, gave up and began to talk about their favorite books.

Harry wasn’t surprised how well they were doing. Luna had no idea how to play, and he knew he was better than Ron; he was just too fast. He was surprised how well Draco and he were working together, though. They were almost unstoppable together, though Blaise managed to pry the ball from them occasionally. They passed it to each other effortlessly, sometimes launching it into the air and bouncing it off their legs and chests, sometimes sending the ball shooting through someone’s legs, but always working together. 

Ron’s team, however, wasn’t as cohesive. Ron kept losing the ball to Draco and Harry, Blaise kept trying to score alone, and Luna was picking flowers from the bushes that served as the goal posts. 

Draco launched the ball into the air, just over Ron, who stood there, looking around for a second. One second too late. Harry bounced the ball off his chest and prepared to kick. A butterfly had landed on Luna’s head, and they had put all their attention on it. They even lifted a flower so the butterfly could drink some nectar. Harry brought his foot back, and kicked hard. Unfortunately, he missed. The ball soared to the left of the bush and hit Neville square in the face. He gave a groan and fell to the ground.

“Oh shit!” Both teams ran over. Luna walked over, flowers recently added to her short hair.

“Oh fuck! Neville, you good mate?” Ron yelled.

“Wha- wha- yeah I’m fine.” He stood up, stumbling a little, “Nice kick Harry.”

Everyone laughed. “You know Longbottom? You're not half bad, mate!” Blaise said as he gave him a fistbump.

“Yeah, you survived Evan’s cannon leg. Respect.” Pansy said. 

“T-thanks.” Neville stuttered. It was the first time he had interacted with the Snakes without being laughed at, and he wasn’t expecting to be praised or be called “the man” by one. It was a nice change of pace.

“Oh gods, Neville, I’m so sorry mate.” Harry felt bad about sending a kick like that at him, and the guilt increased by the fact that he was holding back laughter. It was pretty funny, even if it had hurt Neville, which it didn’t seem to. He gained a small, red bruise on his cheek, but otherwise was completely fine.

“Nah, it’s alright.” Neville shrugged. “Didn’t hurt much.”

“Are you sure, Neville? That mark looks like it hurts a lot. Plus, it’s going to be absolutely nasty in the morning,” Hermione said.

“Eh, I heal pretty fast.” He said. “Comes in handy when you’re a klutz.” He gave a small, sad smile. Neville always seemed to be in the process of messing something up. It wasn’t his fault, he just didn’t really understand what was going on most of the time. His cred as a son of Zeus was up a long time ago, and he just rolled with it. 

They started to walk back over to their little makeshift football field, but then heard everyone calling for chores to be done for the day. They began to walk back to their respective cabins, said their goodbyes, and split up for the next hour and a half. 

Harry walked over to the Hermes cabin, where he could see all of his siblings slacking off a bit. He went over to Connor Stoll, the Head Counselor for Hermes, and received his assigned chores, namely, picking up after the major pranks the Weasley twins pulled. Everyone knew it was the twins, probably even the teachers, but the Hermes cabin was still called in to pick up after their stupid, but incredibly successful, pranks. It was probably because, historically, the Hermes cabin has caused tons of trouble for the camp, second in rowdiness only to the Ares cabin, and because most of their gatherings ended in someone getting injured. Plus, the Demeter kids (who were only the Weasleys at this point), were well behaved in front of everyone else, even the twins, and they blamed the Hermes kids, so they got off scot free. 

This time, during yesterday’s senior counselor meeting, they had dropped ten pounds of meat through the windows, released harpies into the Big House, and sat back to watch the impending chaos. Needless to say, there were several injuries, and there were several damaged walls and pieces of furniture that were covered in scratch and bite marks. Eventually, Malcolm from Athena and Sherman Yang from Ares managed to fight the monsters off, but the room was still trashed. It was up to Harry and Cecil, a short thirteen year old boy who had a mad gleam in his eye and an affinity for messing things up.

Harry was not excited at all. He knew it’d be him doing all the work.

Harry looked around the torn up room. How was he supposed to fill those in? What was he supposed to do with the destroyed furniture? Did they expect him to pick up the harpy droppings? Seriously, they smelled like regular shit, but with rotting meat mixed in. And he was pretty sure that the red stains were blood. 

He started to dispose of the furniture, making a pile of salvageable wood and unsalvageable, using the unsalvageable as firewood for that night’s campfire. The rest he took to the Arts and Crafts area, hoping they would know what to do with it. He instructed Cecil to pick up the dung, put in a bag, and just throw it far into the woods.  _ The monsters can take care of that _ , he thought. Surprisingly, Cecil actually started doing it. Maybe because he broke the rubix cube he was playing with. He grumbled, held his nose, and retched the whole time, but Harry guessed it was better than doing all the work himself. 

After the wood was moved, the dung was picked up, and all the feathers were off of the furniture, they were left with a tidy room. The walls were still covered with scratch marks, but that was the only evidence of the Weasley’s prank. Besides, Conner told him the Hephaestus kids had the right stuff to fill in the scratches, so it wasn’t his problem. He and Cecil went back to their cabin, told Conner they finished, and were released. They had free time until dinner.

Deciding to walk to each of his friend’s cabins, he noticed that Cedric wasn’t anywhere near the Aphrodite cabin, but rather the Persephone cabin. He was also talking to the blonde boy he was starting to become fond of.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Draco seemed to be a bit tense, but not like he wanted to run, like he wanted to sit but not seem impolite. Cedric on the other hand, was completely at ease, smiling wide and talking loud and fast. Harry couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable. He knew that Draco wasn’t happy, and he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. 

He started to approach, maybe somehow break Draco away from the conversation, when he saw something strange. Draco smiled. Not a smirk like he usually wore, or the big one he used only when talking to Pansy and Blaise, sometimes Ron too. No, it was a tiny, soft smile, sending ripples across the camp. Or at least, that’s what it felt like to Harry.

Seeing that Draco didn’t notice him, he turned around and walked away, then looked down at the bracelet that he had felt like wearing that day. It was the pomegranate one he found the day he and Ron had fought. He shuddered. All of this had to have been caused by Draco’s powers. 


	8. Chapter Seven

Cedric was worried. He knew he wasn’t doing his job. Whenever he and Draco were together, he would do all of the talk while Draco would give a polite smile and nod. The plan was failing! Draco had almost guessed the entire plan from the beginning, except for the information about Riddle that was needed, so naturally he was distrustful. What was he going to do? Mr. Lupin was very stressed out about something, so the last thing he needed was for Cedric to fail now. He just had to keep trying. Maybe he could use some charmspeak to loosen his tongue. Cedric hated resorting to his powers rather than having Draco talk freely, but sacrifices must be made. Everyone’s safety was at risk.

At the same thought, what would happen when Draco realized what he had done? He honestly did want to be friends with the boy, but if he used charmspeak, all the progress he made, along with any possibility of a friendship, would be tossed out of the camp or into the forest with the monsters that dwelled there. 

After much debate with himself, Cedric decided that a friendship with Draco would be most beneficial for both Draco and the camp. Sure, he could just force the answers out of Draco’s mouth with charmspeak, but when the effects wore off, he’d feel betrayed and used. He couldn’t stand seeing Draco, who had already gone through so much, struggle with more pain. Besides, part of his job was to make Draco feel better. He’d be failing in his duties, which he absolutely couldn’t abide by. So it was decided. He’d become Draco’s friend and learn about Riddle when Draco was ready to talk. That day wouldn’t come for a while, though. Cedric knew it would be best if Draco could just relax and learn to be himself around him first. He would be patient, taking their new friendship- no, they weren’t exactly friends yet. He would take their new, uh, acquaintanceship one small step at a time. 

He started by trying to spend an increasing amount of time with Draco. He talked to him more often, often bringing up football, hoping that he would join in. To Cedric’s dismay, he allocated few words, no matter the topic, even fewer when it strayed to his past experiences. He followed Draco around, giving him space when he saw he became too much, but otherwise sticking to him like glue. He knew of the late night group meetups, but figured that he was definitely not wanted there, so left it alone. He also tried bringing him over to his friends. That worked out about as well as expected, which is to say, not well at all.

Finally, he tried another trick he had up his sleeve: gossip. He knew that most of the Snakes would kill for a piece of juicy gossip. Even with the whisper of a rumour, and they pounced. It was stereotypical, he knew, but he might as well give it a shot before crossing it off the list. And he knew exactly what he was going to say, which might not have been the best idea for Cedric himself, but he was willing to make this sacrifice.

“So, um, do you mind if I tell you a bit about myself? You don’t have to tell me anything in return,” he rushed out. Draco looked at him a bit skeptically. “You sure?” “Definitely.”

Draco eyed him a bit more before agreeing. “Go on then. What you want to tell me?” Cedric had a blank look, realizing he didn’t think that far ahead besides the main piece of info he was going to let Draco know. “Um, well, you mind hearing a couple stories?” Draco scoffed. “About you being perfect? No thanks, we already know how great you are.” Both boys blushed slightly, before Cedric piped up. “No, more like, embarrassing stories about me. And trust me, there is a good amount.”

“Ok. Spill.”

“Well, you know how Aphrodite kids aren’t the best athletically, we’re typically just pretty?” “Yeah?” “Well, as you know, I’ve been playing football for a good while. This is a story from when I took the summers off from school, by the way,” he clarified

“Well, I was playing with my friends from Bristol, back home, and we had a pretty good game going. My team was losing, and we were trying to beat the others, and when they made another goal, I yelled something along the lines of, ‘Why won’t you just let us score a couple’. They started messing up pretty badly, and I realized I used my charmspeak on them. Even though they didn’t know it was me, I was so embarrassed for the rest of my break there.”

Draco was still a little on edge: Tom had used the same tactic. However, it was kind of funny. He gave a small smirk, then quickly wiped it off his face.

“Really, that’s it. Not as embarrassing as you think it is. We all use our powers outside of school at some point.” He looked at his nails to put up the facade of indifference.

“‘Kay then,” Cedric began to think of another story. One popped into his head after a moment. “Got it! Wanna hear it or was my first one too boring?”

“Just tell the story Diggory.” Draco said flatly.

“Okay, so last year, I was in the woods, playing Capture the Flag. My ex girlfriend was there, too.” Cedric smiled as he recalled the tale. “We ran through the woods, trying to find where Athena hid their banner. They’re really good at the game, we spent a good half hour looking and we didn’t find anything. Then we saw something in the bushes.” Draco began to get a bit more excited. He leaned little closer to Cedric. “I poked the bush with my sword, and it started growling! We ran the heck out of there, tripping over the tree roots and crashing through the bushes. Eventually, we made it to a clearing, but about ten of Athena’s team was there, swords out and ready to capture us. My ex wanted to fight them off, but I just ran. I turned around to see if she followed, and I kid you not, I ran straight into a tree!”

Draco couldn’t hold back his laughter and started to cackle like a witch, which startled Cedric a bit, but he quickly joined in. “Oh, damn, wait, so ten of the other team and your girlfriend at the time saw you try to break off into a run, but instead slam yourself into a tree?” he asked, wiping his eyes. “Yeah, Cho didn’t give me a break about it for weeks.”

At that, Draco paused. “Wait, you had a girlfriend? I thought you were ace. . .” his voice trailed off and his body tensed, hoping that another Tom situation wasn’t about to happen. 

Seeing how quickly the mood changed, Cedric interrupted to clarify. “Yes, I am, but I still have a romantic attraction you know?” Draco shook his head. “Oh, ok, well, so, me being asexual only affects my sexual attraction. I don’t want to have sex. It’s different for plenty of people, some are sex-replused, some aren’t. I personally am not, but I would rather not do it if I can avoid it. Romantic attraction is different, though. A lot of asexual people are aromantic, but a good amount of us still want to fall in love, and have otherwise normal relationships, though at this point, there is no such thing as a ‘normal’ relationship.” Draco slouched a bit, relaxing some.

“I’m panromantic, meaning that I can fall in love with whoever I fall in love with, all that I’m looking for in them in their personality. Gender just doesn’t matter to me.”

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.” Draco said. “Isn’t that the same thing as being bi, just you don’t want sex? My friend Pansy’s bi.”

“No. they’re similar, but pan’s attraction regardless of gender, and bi’s attraction to your gender and other genders.” Cedric patiently explained. “There’s a bunch of overlap, but ultimately they’re different sexualities and romantic attractions.” He talked about it like he’d said it a million times before.

“Hm, that’s kinda confusing.” Draco said, scratching his head. “I guess I got some stuff to learn.”

“Yeah, take your time. Took me a while to figure it out, too.” Cedric leaned back, feeling relaxed. He felt like he was getting closer to Draco, which was great for his assignment, but also great because of Draco himself. He was quiet and a little awkward, but he just wants someone to be close to. Poor boy, he must be so lonely. Cedric knew he just had to help him. He wasn’t entirely sure how, but was sure his help would be needed one day.

“Um, want to hear more stories?” he asked. “Sure.”

They talked for a bit more, Cedric doing most of it, while Draco responded with little quips and short answers to Cedric’s questionings. When they said goodbye, the blonde actually was a bit sad to see him leave, wanting to talk to him more about embarrassing stories. It amused him that the boy that everyone thought was perfect actually wasn’t. 

)-(

The total group of friends and acquaintances began to hang out more, more for Draco’s sake than actual camaraderie. They didn’t want him to feel like he had to choose, so stuck aside their differences and began to tolerate each other and actually get along. While they wouldn’t spend time during dinner or all of their free time, they would try to spend a good half hour either playing football or just talking, or would stay up past curfew to hang out. It was during one of those nights, right by the Big House, where two of the members began to bond more.

“What do you mean you know how to cook, Malfoy?” Ron asked in bewilderment. 

“Why do you sound so shocked, of course I know how to cook, who doesn’t know at least some basic skill,” he scoffed back.

Hermione piped up. “Well, you did say your family was quite wealthy, so it would make sense for you to have a cook do these things for you.”

“Wel, yeah, but I just liked to watch him cook when I was little, and one day I asked him to teach me.” Draco responded. “It’s really fun actually!” 

“Wait, you like to cook, too?” Harry asked

“Yes, I just said that, didn’t you hear me, Evans?”

“Okay, how do you all know how to cook? And why do you like it? It’s so boring!” Ron interrupted.

“My aunt and uncle made me cook a lot as a kid. Too lazy to do it themselves” Harry replied, frowning as he recalled his past. “Honestly, my family was a piece of shit, and cooking was the only time I really got a break. As long as I was busy, they left me alone.”

“That blows, mate.” Draco said. “Hey, wanna trade recipes sometime?”

Harry’s face lit up immediately. “Sure! Anytime!”

“My gods, you guys sound like a bunch of old ladies!.” Blaise yelled. Everyone broke into a laugh.

“Hey, you know what, since you’re the only two who actually enjoy cooking here, how ‘bout you make us some food next time we meet up. We can even make it a little wager,” Ron said slyly, pulling out a drachma. Both boys perked up in interest. “Here, you both make us your favourite… food? Dish? Eh, whatever you call it, with whatever is available in the kitchen, the rest of us will judge.”

Harry frowned. “Well that’s no fair, there’s an even amount of people, what if we tie?”

“If you tie, you both have to make a deal breaker dessert, and if it’s a tie again, you split the money, fifty-fifty. Do we got ourselves a deal?” He held out his hand, palm to the side.

Draco smiled and shook. “It’s a deal for me? You, Evans?”

Harry weighed the options in his mind, but his competitive nature won out.

“Deal.”

“What a grand contest it shall be, eh Blaise?” Pansy said slyly.

‘Why yes, the true test of heroism, the noble art of cooking!” Blaise finished. They both began to giggle to themselves. 

“Laugh away, guys. We just won’t let them taste once we’re done, right Evans?” Draco said with a grin.

“That’s a shame, ‘cuz mine’s gonna be great!” Harry said, hardly containing his excitement. Most people thought of Harry’s hobby to be weird. He’d heard “That’s so boring”, “Cooking’s for girls”, and many more discouraging comments. It felt good to have at least one person who shared this hobby with him.

)-(

They waited a couple of days before going to the kitchens, with the rest of the group staying close but well hidden from harpies. They were given about an hour or two to finish up, so while there was a good bit of time, they still rushed up a bit. 

“I still can’t believe that we’re actually watching a cooking contest.” Ron said, for the thousandth time in the past hour. “Who the hell let them do this?”

“I know right?” Pansy answered, leaning against the sink. “Who wants to cook at a school where you learn how to use swords?”

Draco fast walked around the sink. “Eh, talk all you want.” He moved past Pansy, behind Ron, and placed the pan he was holding into the oven next to Hermione. “I know you’ll shut up once you taste this!” 

Ron, Blaise, Hermione, and Pansy watched him jog around the pantry and towards the stove far in the back of the kitchen. Harry was nearby, and the two were talking. They couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but it was most likely jokes or friendly competition. The others simply stared at the two, who had stopped talking and were now engaged in their dishes.

“It’s so freaky, I’ve never seen Harry look so concentrated,” Hermione whispered over to the other three. 

“Draco always looks like this, but it’s usually more. . . reserved, I guess you could say? Like, he’s concentrated too, but he also looks like he’s having fun,” Blaise responded back.

The four of them continued to whisper, and Draco and Harry for their part ignored them, but traded looks of amusement, knowing that the others didn’t think they could be heard. 

They stayed on in silence, moving on their halves of the kitchens, sometimes reaching over each other for spices, but staying on their sides, overall.

Harry started to hum a small tune, and Draco began to move his hips in rhythm. Harry started to nod his head to the song, putting a few over exaggerated moves into simple acts, such as salting the meat he was cooking, or adding a spin here and there. Draco’s movements became elegant, every step turned into a dance, always standing on his tiptoes and adding in some twirls. It was a quiet moment, yes, but quite content, their smiles wide and the air delightful.

They started to finish up around the same time, Draco’s meal having some posh embellishments and Harry’s looking rather homely. Both were simple but looked absolutely delicious. 

“And… time!” Hermione yelled from the other side of the kitchen. Draco and Harry made their way to a small table near the rest of the group. They each set their dishes down.

Ron stared at the two plates of food greedily. “Cool,” he said enthusiastically. “Can we eat it now?” 

“In a moment, we have to present it first,” Draco said with a wink. “Over here, I have Boursin-Stuffed Chicken, an amazing French dish, by the way. And over there Evans’ got. . . what do you have, Evans?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I just have some Coq Au Vin, also French,” he said with a pointed smirk at Draco, “but a bit more cozy in my opinion.”

“Well I dunno what any of that is, but I’m hungry!” Ron said rather excitedly.

“Well we’re all gonna taste both of them,” Hermione said. “We’re the judges I guess.”

“So how’s this work, we do one at a time or each just take a bite and talk about it later?” Blaise asked.

“Have you never seen a cooking show before?” Harry asked.

“People actually watch cooking on TV?” Blaise asked, sounding surprised. “I just thought there was, like, the news and sports and stuff.” He looked embarrassed. “I didn’t watch TV a lot, okay? I was busy!”

“Anyway…” Draco continued. “The judges, or you guys in this case, taste one dish at a time and just say what you think. Then you decide as a group who wins.”

“So… kinda like a court case?” Pansy asked.

“Yeah, sure, something like that,” Draco replied. “Can you guys just start tasting already?”

They all took a small bite of Draco’s first, spearing the tender chicken, along with cheese and a bit of the ends of asparagus. Their faces melted, pure joy as their taste buds sang at how good it was. They all clamored for more, finishing up the small portion Draco made for them. 

“Draco, darling, this is wonderful! Why haven’t you made this for us before?” demanded Blaise. Draco blushed a bit. “Well, mon ami, I don’t make you all food because we all have professional cooks to prepare us some,” he tried to deadpan, but a bit of the bashfulness snuck into his tone. 

“It’s really good,” Ron chimed in, his mouth full. Hermione agreed before swatting him on the back of his head for the lack of table manners. 

They next tried Harry’s, cutting into the chicken and grabbing up some carrots and mushrooms. They all had the same reaction, the flavors bursting inside of their mouths. They repeated the same song and dance of eating it all and asking why he didn’t cook more.

Harry looked down and scratched the back of his neck. “Just wanted to do more than what I usually do at the Dursleys’.” The group quietened, moving on to discuss in private on who would win. 

Harry waited a moment before asking Draco, “So. . . what do you think they’re talking about?”

Draco gave him a dead stare. “Oh I don’t know, maybe the weather or how beautiful harpies are,” he responded, sarcasm heavy on his tongue.

“Oh you know what I mean. Just what do you think they’re saying? About the food.” He twirled his thumbs a bit. “I hope they like it.”

“Eh, yeah,” Harry said, giving a small smile. “Just know, no matter what they say, they liked mine better.” Draco turned to look at him. Then they both broke into laughter.

“Whatever, mate,” Draco said, still laughing. 

The other four came to a decision, broke from their huddle, and rejoined Harry and Draco. They had spent a few long minutes talking, so obviously it was a difficult decision. Ron was probably still making his decision, as he was currently eating the last few bits of each dish. 

“So, we have come to the conclusion that both are too good to choose from, so we need you both to make a dessert to fully see who is the better chef.”

“Yeh,” Ron said, his face still full of food. “Thih ih too guh.”

“Really Ron?” Hermione said with disdain, wrinkling her nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“Whoh careh?” He replied, still chewing. Then he swallowed his current mouthful. “Harry, Draco, I take it back. Cooking is awesome!”

“You only like it when you can eat it,” Harry retorted. 

“Whatevah. Dehserd!”

The two boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Sure, can do!” Draco said, false cheeriness in his voice. They started off for the kitchens again. They looked at each other once again. “French?” Harry asked. “French.”

)-(

Harry started off by mixing in eggs and flour, creating a good, fatty base. Then he added in milk and water, whisking it in carefully, making sure to get every piece of dryness. He set it off to the side then decided to combine salt and butter, creating a fluffiness about them. Then he combined both mixtures together, beating softly until the mixture was mostly smooth. 

He turned on the stove and put oil into a pan, letting it warm up slightly. While the pan was heating, he grabbed a measuring cup and poured in about a fourth of a cup of the batter into it. Then, Harry poured the little bit of it into the pan and turned it all around, making sure to coat the entire pan. 

He let it cook for around a minute and a half to two minutes, then used a spatula to flick the crip pancake off the pan and set it on a plate. He then repeated the action for the rest of the batter, then added powdered sugar, strawberries and bananas on the top of the pile. 

Draco himself started off by setting the oven for 325 degrees. Then, he grabbed a saucepan and mixed in cream,, and salt and let it cook on slow heat. After it finished cooking, he added in vanilla extract. 

In a separate bowl, he beat eggs together with sugar until the consistency was just right. He combined a quarter of the creme mixture with the eggs, then poured the rest of it into the creme. He poured the batter into four ramekins, then placed the ramekins into a baking dish. Adding boiling water into the dish, he placed it into the oven for about thirty five minutes before taking them out.

After taking them out, he decided to put them in the freezer for about an hour, and during this time, Harry waited for him. They made small talk, but ultimately stayed quiet and waited for Draco’s piece to finish cooling. 

He topped each with custard and sugar, then placed each ramekin in a broiler for about five minutes. 

After they were both done, they brought both desserts out to their friends.

Draco twirled a hand with a flourish and revealed his delicious treat. “I present to you, a marvelous crème brûlée! Please, don’t hold back, dig in!”

Harry held up a hand. “Wait, let me at least announce what my dessert is, your highness.”

Draco stuck out his tongue, and tossed his head. “Go on then.”

“Well, I’d like to give you a wonderful, but simple, set of crepes topped with strawberries and bananas.”

“Now that that’s out of the way, imma dig in!” Ron said excitedly. He, Hermione, Blaise and Pansy all tried Draco’s crème brûlée and Harry’s crepes. Harry had begun to think he made too many crepes before they started eating, but after the first bite, he knew he should have made more. The four of them inhaled two crepes each in about two minutes flat! He was surprised to say the least, but also mildly impressed. Draco, on the other hand, was more surprised than impressed. He had grown up in a wealthy family, where he learned table manners before he could walk. To him, seeing his friends who were usually reserved, quiet, and put together ravenously devour his dish was frightening. Frightening, and slightly nauseating. 

Soon the group of friends became silent, the only sounds coming from them being occasional sighs of content. 

“So…,” Harry said quietly. “Who won?”

“Well, actually, Harry, you won the cooking challenge, but barely. I just wanted dessert, so we said you tied. But the dessert challenge. Harry, I love you, and the crepes were delicious, but the crème brûlée was absolutely restaurante worthy. So, food wise, Harry wins, but dessert wise, Draco won.” Ron shrugged. “Either way, I ate good tonight.”

“Seriously Ron?” Draco groaned. “We’re here for an extra two hours because you were hungry?”

“Mate, that’s low, even for you.” Harry replied, shaking his head.

“Ron, my man, that was the best idea I’ve ever heard!” Blaise gave him a high five. “And damn, it worked like a charm! Thanks for letting us in on it.”

“Yeah, I have a test tomorrow and I was supposed to be studying right now,” Pansy began sleepily. She yawned. “But that was definitely worth it.”

“For the record, I thought this was a stupid plan.” Hermione said, wiping a bit of cream from her mouth.

“Well you were outvoted,” Ron said, licking his fingers. Draco involuntarily gagged. “Besides, Parkinson’s right. This was totally worth it. I know you agree!”

“Dammit,” Hermione said quietly. “That was so much food, but it was so good. I don’t think I can walk back to my cabin.”

“Speaking of walking to the cabins,” Blaise interjected, “What time is it?”

The group looked out at the sky, which had lightened up ever so slightly. “Shit. We better go.”

They all walked off to their respective cabins, bellies full and bonds strengthened, and just something lingering under the surface.

)-(

Draco, Blaise, and Pansy walked back to their cabins together. The Hades and Persephone cabins were directly across from each other, which was great, considering that the two cabins considered themselves a sort of family.

The trio talked and laughed together the whole walk back, shushing each other whenever they heard something other than them. Eventually they made it to the Hades cabin, so Draco said good night as the door shut. Then he turned towards his own cabin. In the darkness, it seemed so small, so far away, the path between him and the cabin too long.

Then he saw something that made his heart stop. Leaning against his cabin was a tall, lanky figure. Draco dove behind the Hades cabin’s bushes, praying to every god he knew that he wouldn’t be seen. In his panicked state, he could think of exactly one person who fit that description: Mr. Riddle. It didn’t work. The figure turned its head and stood up straight, facing him. Draco stopped breathing for a moment.  _ This is it.  _ He thought.  _ He’s gonna kidnap me, rape me, and kill me. I’ll never see the light of day again.  _ Then the figure raised a hand and waved.

Draco calmed down enough to think  _ What?  _ Riddle wouldn’t wave. He would sneak up on him, or madly dash forward and grab him, not wave, would he? It could be a trick to get him to go over there so he’d be easier to grab, but Draco’s instincts told him otherwise. 

After looking at the figure, he knew it wasn’t Riddle. Their hair was too light, and a little too long. They were slightly shorter, though not by much. The figure also said “Hi Draco! It's me Cedric!” which alleviated much of the suspicion. Draco felt better instantly. He was safe, and had a friend nearby.

“Cedric, what are you doing?” Despite being glad to see him, it was weird for Draco to see him standing outside his cabin at two in the morning.

“Oh, just being a good bodyguard and stuff, watching you cook and stuff,” Cedric said, causing Draco to look surprised. “The food looked amazing, by the way. Smelled amazing, too.”

“Were you spying on me?” Draco asked, not happy at all about this new development.

“No, just checking up on you, making sure you’re okay,” Cedric said calmly and without care, as if he did this every other day. For all Draco knew, he probably did. “There’s some dangerous stuff that comes out of the woods at night, ya know?”

“Um, yeah,” Draco said. ‘Well, uh, thanks for looking out for me.”

“No problem!” Cedric said with a smile. “Anyway, we should head to bed. Don’t want the harpies eating us, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

Cedric held the door of the Persephone cabin open for Draco. Draco walked through.”Well, see ya tomorrow! Sweet dreams!” Cedric said as he closed the door. Draco could hear his footsteps slowly get quieter and quieter until they couldn’t be heard.

Draco stood in the doorway for a second, his sleeping siblings not making a sound. He could barely register what just happened. It was a very pleasant surprise, even though it was a little strange. Who just hung out around a cabin at two AM? Especially considering that Draco and Cedric weren’t very close, at least in Draco’s eyes. It was really kind of sweet, knowing that Cedric would be there for him. Well, even though Draco didn’t consider many people as friends, he may let Cedric in. Cedric was very kind, and he clearly wanted to help him. Why else would someone stand outside someone’s door in the wee hours of the morning? Maybe this whole bodyguard situation wasn’t so bad after all.


	9. Chapter Eight

Remus sat up in bed, not being able to sleep properly for the past few days. So many things were happening so quickly that he didn’t know how to keep up with all of it. He hunched over, leaning his head on his hands, trying to calm himself down enough to sleep, but it was hard, especially when he could hear the small group of students from across at the kitchens. Those children really didn’t know how to keep quiet anymore. He huffed out a silent laugh then looked over at the body lying next to him.

Sirius’ face was completely serene, knocked out and snoring. Remus ran his hand through his hair, then turned over himself. He never did fall asleep that night, but was able to relax enough to recuperate for the next morning. He really needed to invest in that melatonin shit Sirius always talked about when he got into one of these stumps. 

Remus lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow, the different camps would meet again, the first time in a few hundred years. He knew he should get some sleep, tomorrow would be quite stressful. He’d have to find cabins for all the other students, arrange a meeting with the oldest campers, and most importantly, keep the campers from ripping each other apart. For some reason, each record of the camps meeting shows bloodshed on some level. About a thousand years ago, a skirmish between the House of Life and Camp Valhalla ended in five deaths. That had been the worst incident, but tensions still ran high. Hopefully, the campers would refrain from fighting just long enough for him to discuss the quest.

The reason the camps were meeting once more is due to the strange activity reported near Camp Valhalla. Remus recalled the messages he received weeks ago, describing a massive surge of power and the dreams of campers riddled with a glowing blue spear, which they believed was the spear of Odin. The best campers, one from each camp, would be chosen to partake in a quest. Their mission would be to investigate the Dyatlov Pass, where it was rumoured that Camp Valhalla resided there, though no one was ever sure, not even their campers. 

While Remus worried about the possible fighting that would come from this visit, he just figured to try to banish it all from his mind, at least for the remainder of the night. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sirius reaching out for him in his sleep. He turned over and cuddled in his lover’s arms and for once in a couple of weeks, he was able to relax.

)-(

When the sun rose the next day, the campers could sense something in the air. Something strange, something powerful. At sunrise, every camper rose from their beds and made their way to the center of the camp. They knew something big was about to happen, but this was met with more fear than excitement. The thing the campers felt seemed old, old as the world itself, possibly. They all felt a combination of familiarity, as if seeing an old friend, and apprehension, as if they were being watched. Mr. Lupin walked out of the Big House to see every one of his campers huddled in front of him. He wasn’t surprised. According to the records, this had happened the last time.

“Good morning, everyone,” he began. “I know that something feels wrong, but it's all alright. We’re just going to introduce you to some new, well, old friends.” 

He reached into his pocket and threw something to the ground in front of him. It appeared to be a small pyramid. Then Remus stepped back.

Suddenly, from the tip of the pyramid, a thin strand emerged and floated upward. It appeared to be dirt or dust. Wait, no, it was sand. The strand grew thicker and thicker, and then began to form a circle. The circle of sand spun faster and faster, becoming larger and larger by the second. The camera all took an involuntary step backwards. Then, from out of the vortex of sand stepped a man. He was short, dark skinned, and barrel chested. He wore a black suit, a fedora, and red tinted sunglasses. In his dreadlocks, red jewelry hung and shone in the sun. On his shoulders was a leopard skin cloak, which Remus recognized to be the symbol of the leader of the House of Life. They weren’t demigods, as his students were, but rather vessels or students of the gods. They used their powers to call upon their gods.

Behind this man stepped about fifteen teenagers. They each looked nothing alike, except for their attire: they all wore white linen robes. They also shared some unearthly sense of discipline. To the campers of the Greek Demigod School for Survival, they seemed too still, too quiet. However, they knew that some strange and foreign power lay beneath their alien dispositions.

The vortex of sand, which was now apparently a portal, closed and disappeared as a girl with platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes slammed her staff to the ground, leaving a small pile of golden sand. She remained at the front of the small group of teenagers, and was obviously a leader among them, if not then a role model.

The man with the leopard skin cloak finally spoke. “Hello, students of the Greek Demigod School for Survival. I am Amos, Chief Lector of the House of Life. We are an organization devoted to the study of the gods. We thank you for allowing us to join you here at your camp.” His voice was deep and soothing, but his words did little to put the Greek demigods at ease. Several whispers of protest arose. What did the man mean by allowing them to join the camp? What did he mean by studying the gods? What was wrong with these kids?

Then, from the river, a loud sound, like a roar, could be heard all over the camp. It wasn’t like any sound anyone, the Greek demigods, or the Egyptian House of LIfe have ever heard. It wasn’t just startling, but sounded more like an explosion than any sound a beast could make. Then, as each person turned towards the river, they were greeted by a magnificent sight.

A giant serpent-like creature with two front legs and a snake tail (a lindwyrm, as people would discover later) moved down the river towards them. Screams and shouts were heard from the Greeks, but the Egyptians simply stepped backwards and observed. Tied to the back of this giant creature was a viking boat, an ornate knorr. It’s sail was riddled with small holes, but was painted with the likeness of a screaming dragon, much like the figurehead of their ship. No one could see anyone in the boat, but some deep instinct, like the one they felt before the House of LIfe arrived, told them that more ‘guests’ had arrived.

Then the massive beast slammed its head against the river bank, shaking the ground, causing several of the campers to trip and fall. Then someone emerged from the vessel on its back. It was a young man, his hair was short, but he had a small goatee. He was dressed in a green T-shirt with yellow words across the chest, but no one could read them. This man held a large sword in his hand, and as he looked across the assembled campers, they got the sense that he shouldn’t be trusted around the blade. There was a certain fire in his eyes that showed deep, passionate anger, but he remained quiet. He cut the rope binding the serpent and the ship, and the ship fell with a bang to the grassy floor. Out of the boat stepped the strangest group of people any of the campers had ever seen.

They, unlike the Egyptians, did not match their clothing. Some wore green T-shirts like the young man, some wore torn brown traveling cloaks, some were even bare chested. Many wore sashes of different colored fabric around their heads, necks, torsos, or waists. These looked suspiciously like either gang colors of trophies taken from victims. They all seemed to have scars, and if they didn’t have any visible one, then they were most likely concealed beneath their clothing. All of them carried weapons: swords, bows, axes, spears, and the like were all strapped to their backs, at their sides in sheaths, or held in their hands. These were the proud children of Camp Valhalla, the camp of Norse demigods. They gave of an aura of power, as did the House of Life, but this felt different. While the Egyptians gave off a cold, calculating presence like a snake, these people felt like bears. No less deadly than a snake, but more violent and aggressive.

Just when everyone thought that things couldn’t get any stranger, the giant lindwyrm shrunk. In its place was a boy who looked about sixteen. What was truly strange about this was that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. Thankfully, his camp brethren tossed him a woven sack, which contained jeans and a green T-shirt. He waded into the river to change.

“Greetings, noble Greek warriors and Egyptian magicians,” said a man at the head of the group of norse kids. “I am Helgi, director and head of Camp Valhalla. We have travelled a long way, from the far north to meet you. May Odin bless us with friendship and cooperation.” This man may have dressed fancily, in a black suit and matching tie, but that was the only nice thing about his appearance. His beard and hair looked like a buzzard that exploded. He was rather large and muscular, which clashed with his elegant dress and speech. Across his back was a great double bladed axe. 

The Greek faculty began to help the others get settled in, the House of Life in Hera’s cabin and Camp Valhalla in Artemiss. The crowd dispersed, but the energy still ran high and so many asked one question: what in the everloving hell were other schools doing here?

)-(

As usual, after dinner, the camp had its nightly campfire. However, this time, everyone under the age of sixteen was sent to bed. When this was announced by Mr. Black, several roars of protest were heard. 

“This had never happened before!”

“That’s rubbish!”

“Why’re you letting the outsiders go? That’s not fair!”

Then Mr. Black unsheathed his sword and drove it through the counselor's table. The table was made of concrete, but the sword sunk in so easily that it could’ve been cheese.

“I understand there’s some confusion,” he began with a kind smile. “But frankly, I don’t give a shit. Get to bed, please.” At the nearby table, the Camp Valhalla kids burst out laughing. All except for the tall one with the goatee. He simply stared ahead at Mr. Black, his face stony and unreadable. On the other hand, no one laughed at the House of LIfe’s table. In fact, they looked rather surprised and offended at Sirius’ remark. Only the platinum blonde girl from before gave a small smile, but she quickly covered it with her sleeve.

With much grumbling, all the Greek Demigods under the age of 16 left for bed. There were few people left at their tables. Ron’s brothers, Fred and George were allowed to stay, as were Sherman from Ares, Conner from Hermes, Malcolm from Athena, Cedric from Aphrodite, and about ten to fifteen others. They quickly grouped together, as they were still unfamiliar with and frightened by the others. They now had roughly the same number of people as the other groups, but they still felt at a disadvantage. The Norse, much to the terror of everyone but each other, carried their weapons everywhere they went. The Egyptians carried no weapons, but they each had a plain brown bag at their sides. One of the lessons that Mr. Black had taught them was that an unarmed opponent either was hiding a weapon or didn’t need one to kill you, so they knew to be prepared for anything. The only consolation for the Greeks was that their ‘guests’ looked nervous of them as well. They trained and studied for battle everyday, and their bodies clearly showed it, especially these older campers, the best the camp had to offer. They also had had years to develop and strengthen their individual powers, making them a threat despite not having weapons.

“Now that the children are gone, let’s go to the campfire,” Mr. Lupin said, walking with the leaders of the other camps. “There we shall discuss why we have been brought together.”

The tall bearded man stood up. “Ok, so as I’ve sent out, about a week or two ago, Odin’s Spear disappeared out of our secret and  _ safe _ location. We don’t know where it is and all our methods of tracking have done no good. Another thing that we believe to be connected to all this shite is that there have been blue lights coming from around the Dyatlov Pass, which is where, as you know, our camp is located around. We have also heard that you two,” he gestured towards the other schools, “have had some troubling stuff going on. We have reason to suspect that it is all connected, and also hope that whatever we come up with will put a stop to whatever is going on.”

“As you may not know,” said Amos, the House of Life leader, “We have several bases of operation around the world. There is one in every country, two in the USA. Near our bases in Russia, East United States, and Norway, we have seen a strange man walk right towards the entrances to the base. As soon as he was noticed, he disappeared. Helgi, I know you say that these things are related, and I can see why. The Dyatlov pass if not so far from our base in Moscow.” Helgi beamed as if to say ‘See? I’m right!’. “However, that happened months ago, about two months before the spear went missing. I know that this man travels quickly. In the span of two weeks, he visited the three specified bases multiple times. If he was there at our base on a stop before coming to take the spear, we would’ve seen him. It wouldn’t have taken him two months to reach the Dyatlov pass from Moscow. I simply can’t see how these things could be related.”

Remus contemplated a bit before asking, “If I may, what did this man look like, any description of him if you have it.”

Both leaders looked puzzled before Amos answered, “Tall, lanky, dark hair, and, rather oddly, red eyes. Similar to the image of that Mothman fellow in West Virginia.”

Remus looked stunned, but also a bit frustrated. “Ok, so we may have something that ties this all together, but aside from the red eyes, that could be anyone.”

“Just what have ya got?” Helgi asked.

Remus was quiet for a few more moments before speaking again.

“We had a teacher here, for a while, practically from the time he graduated. He was our maths teacher. He became close to one student here, a son of Persephone. A couple months afterwards, during Valentine’s Day in fact, he tried to assault the boy. He disappeared right after. Now, the tie to this is that he is a son of Nemesis, and all children of Nemesis have the ability to make their eyes glow red along with their powers, and since your incident,” he gestured to Amos, “happened during our winter break, and yours,” he gestured to Helgi,” happened right after he disappeared, he could be the bind in all of this.”

Several of the campers shuddered. Mr. Riddle had been no one’s favorite teacher, but this was almost too horrible to believe. As for the others, the idea of a teacher assaulting a student was absolutely repulsive. In Camp Valhalla, where the students live at camp full time, the teachers had become a second set of parents, expecting the best from them but always there to talk and lend a hand. The House of Life taught that the students must respect their teachers, and that the teachers would in turn respect them. They had also each been a member of the House of Life since they were young children, so a strong bond, like a child to their grandparents, had formed. No one could believe that this man did this, but now at least they had a suspect. 

“Well, now to tell you why we brought the camps together,” Remus said, clearing his throat. “We, the leaders of each camp, have decided that it’s time to issue a quest.” Each camper from every camp leaned forward. The excitement in the air was tangible. “A quest to find and retrieve Gungnir, Odin’s Spear.”


	10. Chapter Nine

Harry, Hermione, and Ron decided to do what they did best: not listen to the teachers and stick their noses into seemingly important business. They snuck out of their cabins, but not before asking if Draco wanted to go. Draco’s brother and sister, Theo and Daphne, though, held him back, saying that he needed a proper night’s bedrest, for once. So they continued on, making sure to be practically invisible to the rest of the camp. They managed to hide behind an unused table right out of the line of sight of anyone.

Using a small magical horn made by the Hecate cabin and stolen by the Hermes cabin, Harry was able to allow his friends hear everything that was being said at the campfire. Well, almost everything, it had some static. Apparently, the big hairy man had lost a spear. The guy with the fedora, which Ron thought was lame, reported a man outside his base. He wasn’t sure if the horn was broken or not, but he couldn’t tell if the base was in the US, Russia, or Norway. He heard all three countries. Then the fedora bloke went into a monologue, which was exactly when the horn decided to stop working.

“I thought you said you could listen in, mate!” Ron whispered.

“I’m trying! This stupid thing was broken before I got it!” Harry resorted to banging the horn on the table.

“Stop! They’ll hear us!” Hermione whispered loudly. She tried to grab it out of his hand and Harry tried to keep it to himself. They briefly wrestled for it, resulting in Hermione falling backwards and Harry dropping the horn, which turned back on.

“We had a teacher here, for a while, practically from the time he graduated,” said the horn in the voice of Mr. Lupin. “He was our maths teacher. He became close to one student here, a son of Persephone. A couple months afterwards, during Valentine’s Day in fact, he tried to assault the boy. He disappeared right after. Now, the tie t-” then the static returned, but no one tried to fix it this time.

“Wha - what was that?” Harry finally said, breaking the small moment of silence they had. He started to look at both of them, but locked his eyes on the resigned look upon Ron’s face.

“Did you know about this?” he asked angrily. Hermione also whipped her head toward the redhead.

He looked extremely guilty. “I mean, partially. I figured it out, but you have to know, I was the one there, I was the one helping him before Mr. Lupin got to him, and besides, it was his story to tell.”

The other two still looked furious, but accepted the answer. The trio knew that there was much to be talked about later, but at this moment, they needed to listen to the rest of the conversation.

Turning and ignoring Ron, Harry brought up the horn again, vying for another chance to listen to the meeting. It gave a crackling noise and the sound returned.

“Well, now to tell you why we brought the camps together,” The trio leaned forward eagerly. “We, the leaders of each camp, have decided that it’s time to issue a quest.” The three began to breath heavily, their excitement reaching its peak. “A quest to find and retrieve Gungnir, Odin’s Spear.” Then the trio’s excitement flattened out.

“Who’s Odin?” asked Ron. “Is he their leader?’

“No, the big hairy one’s the leader,” Hermione said. “Helgi, I think.”  
“Maybe Odin’s a camper?” Harry suggested, scratching his head. “I mean, it's a weird name, but maybe?”

“They wouldn’t have come over here for a camper’s spear, Harry,” Hermione said. “Maybe we can ask around? Whoever this Odin is, they're probably pretty important to the camp. Maybe Helgi’s boss? That name sounds familiar.”

“You guys don’t get it, do you?” Ron said.

Hermione and Harry turned towards each other, confused. “Get what?”

“If this weapon is so important that they have to come over here to ask our help, it's probably a god who owns it, so…”

“Wait a sec,” Hermione gasped. Then she closed her eyes. Harry and Ron could tell she was doing very deep thinking. “THAT'S IT!” she yelled. Harry and Ron immediately shushed her. “I read about this a few weeks ago! Odin’s the main god of the Norse, kinda like Zeus!”

“So, king of the gods, big beard, lightning bolts flying out his ass?” Ron asked.

“Yes, yes, and no, Ronald,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s not the god of lightning, but the god of wisdom, war, and death.”

“Sounds like a cheerful bloke,” Harry said.

Hermione ignored this and continued. “He had a spear, Gungnir, which gave the wielder the authority to rule Asgard-”

“Ass-guard?” Ron asked. Harry giggled.

“No,” Hermione sighed with disappointment. “No, it's pronounced as-guard, not ass-guard, Ronald. And it's basically Olympus, but like its own separate world.”

“So, whoever has the spear now could rule this Assguardy place, right?” Harry asked.

“Well, it just means that whoever has it has a certain degree of power over the other gods of Asgard, ASGARD, not Assguard,” Hermione was getting tired of having to pronounce it. “It makes the wielder more powerful, basically.” 

“So, really powerful bad guy, more or less?’ Ron asked.

“Yes Ron,” Hermione sighed. “In simpler terms than I would use, but yes.”

The group sat there quietly for a moment. The horn told them that Lupin said one student from every school would go on the quest to retrieve it, somewhere in the… uh, the… Die-at-love Pass?

“What’s the Die-at-love Pass?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, maybe the horn is cutting out,” Hermione suggested.

“Yeah, probably, you’re right,” Harry stopped talking and the group continued to listen.

Lupin and the other two leaders talked about a potential quest, where one from each camp were to go and look at the last known location of the spear. There were going to upcoming challenges prefaced as small inclusion outings for the future leaders to get to know each other better. From there, they would pick the top three from each camp, then have the oracle pick (if possible), and if not, they would pick themselves. 

“Wouldn’t that be awesome, guys?” Ron asked suddenly. “Picked to go on a quest to save the world?”

“Ron, we don’t even know if the world is in danger,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, it's probably not. Maybe the god lost his spear and just wants us to find it instead of him doing it himself.”

“Sounds super cheap to me,” Hermione said. “Mr. Lupin seems pretty worried. Getting everyone together and having a big quest seems pretty selfish for a god who needs help finding something. Oh well, it has happened a lot throughout history.”

Then the horn relayed more information. “And that’s all for tonight. In the coming days, we shall have our competitions. Good luck, and may the best challengers win!” Then more static sound filled the air. It was clear that no more information was being given, so Harry shut the horn off and put it in his pocket. They quickly moved to an area of the Mess Hall where they wouldn’t be heard or seen by the people going out.

They waited for a good ten minutes before they felt it was safe to continue conversation. 

“So, a competition? Wonder what they’ll be doing.” Hermione said.

“Maybe a fighting tournament?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, maybe, so they can see who kills monsters the best.” Hermione said.

“Well, where did they say they were going to explore? The pass, right. Do you know anything about it, Mione?” Ron asked.

“Not at the moment, but I can probably find something out by dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure, the sooner the better, I guess.”

No one talked about what they really wanted to discuss: Draco. It was now apparent that Tom did something to him, and they all felt as disgusted as the older campers who heard it. They couldn’t bring themselves to talk about it, so they simply stood there for a minute, glancing sadly at one another, averting their eyes when they met each other’s gaze.

Finally, it was Harry who broke the silence. 

“How do we tell him we know?”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure sure he knows I know, I mean I was bloody right there!” Ron whisper-shouted.

“Yes, you were Ron, but what about us? He probably wanted to tell us in his own time, and the fact that we now know isn’t the best. Plus, if we told him we knew, it would be springing it on him before he was even ready.” Hermione was ever the voice of reason, and another silence ensued.

“So… we just don’t say anything, then?” Harry asked. “Wait until he says something, if he ever does?”

“True, he might not want to tell us, it probably traumatized him. I heard that they were close. Blaise told me.” Hermione said sadly.

“If he doesn’t say anything, then this isn’t our business, and we should drop it.” Ron said a bit aggressively, raising his voice slightly.

Hermione raised her hands, defensive. “I know, Ron. I’m just saying why to Harry.”

Ron just shook his head.

“I’m going to bed. I have a headache.” Noticing Hermione’s hurt face, he quickly added on, “Not because of you, Mione, just all of it.”

He looked at both of them. “Night guys.”

He wandered off to his cabin, head hanging low. Harry and Hermione just stood there, Hermione still a little hurt. They didn’t know what to say. They stood there in silence for a few moments, Harry fiddling with something in his pocket and Hermione kicking a rock on the ground. 

“Maybe we should go to bed,” Harry said. “We can tell the others the stuff later.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hermione sighed. “Ron’s right. We don’t talk about Draco, though. Or Riddle.”

“Yeah, Ron and Draco won’t react well.”

They proceeded to say goodnight and walked off to their respective cabin. The tension didn’t dissipate, rather it stayed and lingered. Then it expanded, almost like red smoke.


	11. Chapter Ten

Draco was having some difficulty adjusting to having a bodyguard, or whatever Cedric was supposed to be. He wasn’t sure if Cedric was required to follow him around everywhere, but he probably was. Maybe. Draco knew for sure, though, that Cedric wasn’t required to the blabber mouth he was. Honestly, did this boy ever stop talking? Was he unable to see how quiet Draco was, or could he simply not stand the awkward silence?

Even though the boy was a bit too bubbly for his taste, he could say he was becoming fond of his constant presence. At least he wasn’t alone.

Draco didn’t really open up to him outside of the time he exploded in the forest, but he did allow for polite conversation, which Cedric was more than willing to accept. Cedric didn’t try to force anything out of him either, he just talked about anything that popped into his mind. Even though Draco thought doing this was silly, he couldn't help but find it interesting. He felt so comfortable with others that he just talked about the most random things, from his old cat to how the sky looked.  _ What’s it like?  _ Draco wondered  _ To not assume everyone thinks you’re strange? To be able to be more intimate with a stranger than I would to family? _ Draco couldn’t help being a little jealous, but also happy Cedric was still innocent. The world wasn’t out to get him, and he knew it.

Feeling a bit guilty for not responding much, Draco decided to start up a new conversation.

“So, um, what’s your favourite animal?” he asked. Then smacked himself mentally for asking such an inane question.

“Oh, um, I don’t really have one. I guess hippos, they’re killers but they’re also pretty adorable.”

Draco was a bit surprised that Cedric actually answered, then smiled.

“That’s cool. Mine are cats, we used to have one at home, a little old thing. He died when I was in fourth grade, but I always loved him,” he said. Cedric grinned then asked, “What was his name?” Draco blushed then mumbled something under his breath. “Awww, what was that,” Cedric teased. “I said, his name was Snugglepuff, because he was fat, grey, and fluffy.”

Cedric began to chortle as Draco’s face became redder than a Weasley’s hair. “It’s not my fault, I was barely two when I named him, can you expect anything different!” He stared at the still laughing Cedric before joining in a bit. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now Diggory, but wait until I get some dirt on you.”

The taller boy clapped. “Ok, so, least favourite animal, I don’t have one, but I know that you have one somewhere in that head of yours.”

The smaller rolled his eyes. “Oh, it’s peacock, definitely peacocks,” He groaned at Cedric’s quirked eyebrow and began to explain. “Ok, so my family is bloody rich, my father has some shady dealings, but it’s none of my business. Since we were so rich, Father decided that we  _ must  _ have ginormous peacocks on the Manor’s grounds, and those buggers would chase me around so much. Never did that to my sisters, only me. It’s like they could smell the infidelity on me,” he laughed at the last part.

“Yeah, don’t need Hera to go crazy on you, wasn’t your fault your dad’s a prick. If anything, they should be nipping at his heels.”

They both giggled, the air lighter and more free than it was before.

)-(

Harry woke up feeling horrendous. His head was pounding and his tomack was already hurting, with the claws of hunger scraping at his insides. He turned over to grab his glasses and proceeded to fall out of bed. Now his back hurt and his side throbbed. When he went to go to the showers, he accidentally grabbed a pranked bottle of shampoo, bleaching his hair (not too much but enough to be a rather disgusting shade of orange). He dyed it back to its usual black color, but it still felt stiff and dry. When he looked in the mirror, he noticed his eyes looked like he smoked weed for three hours straight. The morning was horrendous. 

His mood only worsened when he sat down for breakfast and noticed his two best friends were dancing around each other. Ever since they started to sit all together, they always had something to say to each other, but now, the silence was so thick between them that he could cut it with a butter knife. 

“Wotcher Ron, Mione. How are my two best friends doing this  _ fine  _ morning,” he said with false cheer. 

They looked decidedly uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact with each other. 

Having no sense, he just blurted out, “I thought you both were done with whatever spat you had last night.” They both blushed like mad, sitting up straighter than they had before. Ron shoveled his food into his mouth and left with minimal goodbyes. Hermione just excused herself without picking up her plate, muttering about a lost appetite. She wrangled her braids up into a bun and started to run off to the Arena, which was surprising. Harry decided to finish up his food before following her. 

He was not in a good mood. He would admit, he was acting like a little prick, but he didn’t care. He knew he made it awkward, but he found it a little funny, and he was just a little annoyed at the world. Harry didn’t know why, maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 

He followed her, but she was walking pretty quickly. It was almost like she knew he was following, which she probably did. She was very observant. Then she started doing quick, rapid turns behind cabins and trees. He was usually able to find her after a few seconds, but each time it got harder and harder to do so. Eventually, he spent a whole ten minutes looking for her. He looked around the entire west half of the camp; the arts and crafts studio, the sword fighting arena, and a few volleyball courts, but there was no sign of Hermione. Then, as he was about to give up and go try to find Ron, he turned and saw her standing on the small wooden bridge over the lake. Was she really there the entire time? Harry was both relieved and annoyed as he walked over to her.

He walked up the bridge and stood right next to her. She didn’t move and just stood there, staring at the water. She looked like she did when she came up with her plans, only a little more sad. Harry was still a little grumpy, so he quickly got bored and tapped her on the shoulder.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!” she screamed, a dagger slipping from her sleeve into her hand. Then she saw that it was Harry. “What the hell, Harry?! You know not to interrupt when I’m thinking!” There was a small flash of bronze from her hand, then the dagger slid back into her sleeve.

“Sorry, got bored,” he said. “What were you thinking about?”

“Uh…” she said as her face turned red. “It's… complicated.”

“Why?” Her face turned a deeper shade, showing up furiously on her dark skin. “Nothing, at least, nothing concerning you,” she said a bit bluntly, turning her face to try to hide it without being obvious.

“C’mon, just say it!” Harry said, walking around her to face her, but she turned away again. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“You know, Harry, when someone says it doesn’t concern you, then it means it's not your business.” she said, trying to walk off the bridge.

“Hold up!” Harry said, blocking her way off the bridge. “I just wanna help! It's obviously troubling you,so I wanna see if I can do anything about it!”

She sighed. “There’s no way I’m talking you out of this,is there?” 

“Nope!”

“Fine then,” she said, sitting on the bridge, letting her feet dangle over the water. “Fine, but just so you know, this is hard for me to say, and I hope our friendship isn’t affected by this. I know we’ve been very good friends for a long-”

“Oh my gods Hermione just cut to the chase!” Harry yelled. He got bored again.

“Okay fine!” she sighed. “The truth is, I’ve had feelings for Ron for a while now.” She blushed hard and buried her face into her hands.

“Wait, wHaT?!” Harry yelled. He couldn’t believe it, they seemed to be just friends, they fought regularly, and they were so different. How could she possibly like him?! “I… did not see that coming.”

“Really? I thought it was obvious,” Luna, who was swimming in the lake, said. Harry and Hermione jumped. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. I was just talking to the naiads.”

“Luna! This was supposed to be private!” Hermione yelled, her face getting redder by the second. 

“Sorry,” they shrugged. “By the way Harry, you really didn’t know?”

“Uh… no?” He said, thinking of Ron and Hermione together, but he simply couldn’t imagine the two liking each other, much less dating.

“You haven’t noticed her blushing when he talked to her, she always sits next to him, watching him closely during the football games we played, helping him with homework more than you, trying to get him to read her favorite books, always making up after their arguments-”

“Okay Luna, thank you, that’s enough!” Hermione said standing up suddenly. “Go talk to the naiads or something.”

“Okay, bye bye!” they said as they sank into the lake.

Hermione was blushing super hard, her skin about as red as her crush’s hair. Her own hair was also puffed out, so she looked like an agitated cat.

“Look, I know he never would like me that way, so that’s why I never brought it up. I just want to move on from all this.” She wrung her hands, looking a bit defeated before perking up. “I can get over it, and I will, but just today, he was avoiding me, and even before that he was acting weird, and I’m not sure if he found out, but I just want it to go back to the way it was before.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, maybe, I don’t know,” Harry replied, feeling sorry he asked her to spill the secret. “Just… wait for a bit and try to be friendly?”

Hermione sighed. “You really are no help at all, you know that?” She said with a small smile, obviously joking.

“Yes I do!” He said as they both began to laugh. They sat there on the bridge for a few minutes, looking out onto the lake. Then the conch horn blew.

“OH SHIT!” Hermione sprang up and grabbed her bag. “We missed our first class!”

“Oh fuck,” Harry sighed. He didn’t really care, but Hermione did. She quickly double checked her bag and sprinted to McGonagall’s classroom, Harry reluctantly following behind her.

)-(

A few days passed, and finally it was the weekend. Draco was relieved. In Lupin’s class he took a test on the conquests of Alexander the Great, a great king of Greece and a son of Zeus. He was pretty sure he flunked it, but he didn’t care. Now it was time to do what he did best: chill. He would probably have to go somewhere with Cedric, since he made it his mission to be at Draco’s side twenty four hours a day, but Draco was not annoyed by this. He and the Aphrodite had become friends, rather good ones at that. 

“So, what’re we doing?” Cedric asked, appearing suddenly as soon as Draco emerged from his cabin. 

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?” Draco asked.

“Hm…” Cedric murmured, thinking. Then he snapped his fingers. “Got it! Wanna head to the arena and practice for a bit?”

Draco shrugged. “Eh, sure, maybe.”

“C’mon, mate!” Cedric said. “I’ve seen you in the arena, I heard about the fight with Weasley, I know you’re good!”

“Er, well, I’m okay…”

“You’re better than okay! Besides, you’ve never seen me with a sword,right?” Cedric smirked.

“No, I guess I haven’t.” Draco said.

“Then c’mon, this’ll be fun!” Cedric said, walking briskly to the sword fighting arena in the distance.

It was relatively empty when they arrived, with the younger students doing arts and crafts, avoiding the Arena at all costs since the two other bases came, and the older students in their cabins, trying to escape the rest of everyone else.

They set themselves up and grabbed their weapons, both longswords. 

“Okay, you have the advantage when it comes to powers, so how about we both agree that we don’t use our abilities,” Draco said. “I mean, you could tell me to drop me sword and do the hula and I would ‘cause of your charmspeak.” Cedric laughed at that, then agreed. “Yeah, no powers. So, in places. Ready? Start.”

Neither of them made an immediate first move, instead starting to circle towards their right. Draco kind of pranced about, light on his toes, like a ballerina, while Cedric was a bit more crouched, similar to that of a lion waiting in the grassland. Their eyes stayed trained on each other, never straying. They moved closer and closer together, until they were only an arm’s length away, where Draco made a sly move towards Cedric’s leg. He barely blocked it, looking a bit caught off guard at how Draco never once broke eye contact. Before he could counteract it, Draco spun away, once again out of reach. He smirked, held out an arm, and made a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers. Cedric grinned. Oh, it was  _ on _ .

He sidled up quickly to Draco, making a cut at his arm, to which he blocked and pushed him away. Draco moved closer, taking three steps forward with quick, precise swings, one of which clipped Cedric in the side. Cedric acted immediately after that, jabbed his sword at Draco, so head on that anyone should have been able to see it coming, but it still caught Draco off guard. He moved quickly into his space, twirling behind him, forcing Cedric to keep up with his spins. Somewhere in there, Cedric swung blindly, hitting the flat into Draco’s shoulder, hard enough to bruise. He bit back a groan and kept to his strategy. He had his back to Cedric’s front, so close that they were almost in an embrace, and headbutted Cedric in the nose, elbowing him in the ribs, elegantly turning and swiping with his sword, incapacitating the older boy. Using his bad arm, he pushed Cedric to the floor, making him fall back on his arms. Then, in a move he learned from Pansy, used his blade to reach under Cedric’s chin and tilt it up. His own lips quirked into a smile.

“So Diggory, how was that for a match?”

Draco had never seen a man with a smile so infectious.

)-(

After their duel, Cedric and Draco headed to lunch. Cedric realized he talked a little less to Draco during the walk over. He couldn’t stop thinking about their little sparring session. He and Draco seemed to be in tune, like one mind during the fight. That is, until Cedric tripped on his shoe and gave Draco the upper hand for a moment. He was normally a great duelist, not as fast as Malcolm was, not as strong as Sherman, but smoother and more relaxed then they could ever hope to be. Today, he’d blocked out the rest of the world and focused on his partner. He’d never had a battle like that before

They arrived in the dining pavilion and said their goodbyes. Draco headed to a table with his friends, Zabini, Parkinson, Weasley, Potter, and Granger. He was glad Draco had friends other than him. Maybe he would be okay, and the sad, scared boy who just wanted to be alone would become just an embarrassing memory.

Cedric himself walked over to the Aphrodite table. He didn’t particularly like it there, since he was the only person in the cabin who thought gossip was stupid and rude, but everyone liked him, so he always managed to change the subject for a while. He sat down and, as usual, started his meal by blocking out the conversation from his mind. He was about to start eating his sandwich when Mr. Lupin stood up from his table and began to make an announcement.

“Greetings, everyone,” he began, clearing his throat. “I believe it is time that I told everyone why we have been brought together.” All the younger campers leaned in closer, while the older ones sat back, already knowing what was about to be said. “You see, there has been a great disturbance in our world. We suspect that there is someone powerful that means to do something terrible, but we are not sure what yet. You may notice that the only visitors we have in the camp are over the age of sixteen. That was by design. You see, we shall select three campers, one from each camp, to embark on a quest.” Excited murmuring broke out among the young ones. “That is why, starting today, in one hour, there will be a series of trials, designed to root out the very best from among our older campers. Then the leaders from each camp will look at the results and select their contender in the quest.” The older campers looked very surprised. Cedric knew he was. They hadn’t been told about any trials. “Anyway, enjoy the rest of your meal. In an hour, the first trial shall begin.” Then Lupin sat down.

They all sat and ate in silence, only the younger ones muttering amongst themselves. Draco, Ron, and Blaise all were theorizing about it, while Hermione and Pansy talked of something more important to them, but Harry felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't explain the way he felt at all, and didn’t know why he didn’t join in talking with the other boys, but he felt like puking. He hardly touched his food, and just kept his head down for the rest of the meal, dismissing it as a headache.

Cedric noticed the younger boy holding his head in his hands, and was concerned, but his eyes eventually found their way to Draco, who met his eyes with his own occasionally. He always looked away almost immediately, but they both had their minds on each other.

Draco had no idea what was going on, but he was scared. What trials? What quest? Is this dangerous? Could Cedric die? Draco couldn't stand to see Cedric get hurt, but he was above sixteen, so he probably had to do this. Draco was scared, was his friend in danger?

Cedric was a little scared. He knew what was going on, but he also didn’t. Did he have to hurt the others? Would he himself be safe? Honestly, he wasn’t too scared about himself, but mostly about what was going to happen. Was he supposed to fight, hurt, maybe kill the others in a competition? Surely he wouldn’t, but he was still scared and confused. However, he knew he wanted to go and join the quest. Normally, he wouldn’t have joined a quest, he’d rather help out around the camp, but something inside of him burst with pride and longing. He looked around, seeing that same feeling shining on the faces of the older campers around him. 

He knew he had to try his best to win. It felt like it was his destiny. There was something deeper to all of this, something that even the leaders of each camp couldn’t explain properly at that damned meeting, but he knew it was calling to him, so he was going to try his hardest to go on this quest.

Exactly one hour later, the conch horn blew again, but louder this time. Everyone knew, the trials had begun.

“Alright, gather ‘round if you’re over sixteen!” Mr. Black yelled. Once everyone gathered in a circle, Mr. Black put his arms around the two students closest to him: a boy in a ripped green Camp Valhalla t-shirt and the blonde girl from the House of life, the obvious leader. They both looked very uncomfortable. “Alright, alright,” he whispered. “The first challenge is the fun challenge. We don’t wanna kill anyone on the first day, now do we?” he chuckled, a few people joined him. “Right, so follow me, and remember, the only rule is try not to kill anyone, ‘kay?” He gave an evil smile. “Kay everyone, lets go! Follow me!” he shouted, so everyone in the dining pavilion could hear. He broke into a jog, the sixteen-and-ups following, and the large crowd of young ones whooping and cheering followed behind them. The trials had begun, and no one could wait to see what would come next. 


	12. Chapter Eleven

Mr. Black stopped, telling the contenders to do the same, but yelling at the younger ones to keep going and stop at the top of the hill. Once they left, Mr. Black simply stood there for a moment, waiting. 

“Ya know, you lot are gonna be seeing a lot of each other in the coming days, so I suggest you get to know each other. Besides, there is gonna be one of you from each camp on the quest, so the more people you talk to, the more likely you’ll end up with someone you can tolerate, so I suggest you start soon.” Mr. Black said, cleaning his nails with a small hunting knife.

For about a minute, nobody moved. Then, Cedric couldn’t stand it any longer. He looked around and picked out the most quiet, antisocial, introverted person he could find and decided to go talk to them. In his experience, the quiet people have the best stories and ideas, but no one knows since they can’t find the right way to get them out. Luckily, Cedric knew how. 

The person he chose was the big quiet young man from Camp Valhalla, the one who cut the rope on the boat. While his comrades were noisy and rowdy, he was silent and stoic, like a statue. Perfect. Cedric walked over to him, earning several confused glances and stares from everyone else. 

“Hi! I’m Cedric, son of Aphrodite!” he said, extending his hand to the man. At first, he just looked at it, his face showing no emotion. Then, he slowly lifted a strong, calloused hand and shook. His grip was so strong. “Viktor. Son of Thor.” he had a rather heavy Russian accent, but not so heavy as to make him unintelligible to English ears. 

“Well, nice to meet you. I was wondering if you knew what they were planning on today. Then I was like, ‘Oh Cedric, he probably doesn’t know, he’s in the same position as you.’ Then Mr. Black told us to talk to others and so I thought why not, you know? Make new friends, hope to all be on the quest so you can have something to do that’s outside of the camp. Hey, do you want to trade theories for what we could do for this challenge?” Cedric said this all in one rush, barely taking a breath when needed. To his credit, Viktor took it all in stride, barely widening his eyes at the amount of words coming out of the other boy’s mouth.

“Yes, I suppose that would be nice. To have something to do out of camp, I mean. Especially when it seems to be important for all at the camp, especially with the suspected man. I don’t know what they have planned, but I wouldn’t be adverse to, as you would say, ‘trade theories’ with you.”

“My thoughts exactly! Okay, they said this’d be fun… so what if we’re handling monsters?” Cedric wondered aloud.

“I suppose that would be enjoyable,” Viktor said. “Especially against bilgesnipe. Loathsome creatures, they are.”

“Sorry, what is a… bilgvipe? Am I pronouncing it wrong?” Cedric asked.

“You’ve never heard of one? It's like a rhinoceros with moose antlers. They crush people. And its Bilgesnipe.”

“Oh, we don’t have those here. We have things like hell hounds, or harpies.” Cedric said.

“I know of a hellhound, Garm, who guards Hel. I’ve never heard of this ‘harp-ee’ before. What is that?” Viktor asked.

Cedric whistled loudly, and within a few moments a large ugly bird lady dropped through the trees, squawked loudly and flew quickly away into the forest.

“Ah. I see,” Viktor said with a hint of admiration. “Aphrodite, you say? Is that the god of animals? Is that how you called the bird lady?”

“Oh no, Aphrodite’s the goddess of love, and I got her power of charmspeak, so I can tell people what to do.” Cedric explained, waiting for him to laugh, as people always did when they found out who his mom was. His cabin was not very popular, and his siblings were seen as weak and lazy.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Viktor replied. No laugh, no snarky comments. Awesome! “That seems like a very useful power, you can make the enemy surrender before they draw a sword, you can take down countries if you so wished.”

“Yeah, but I don’t use it much,” Cedric said. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with his power, knowing that he was probably the most dangerous person in his camp. “If I do use it, I usually just calm people down.”

“Very noble of you, son of Aphrodite,” Viktor said, with clear respect in his voice. “I am the son of Thor, god of thunder.”

“Oh, like the movie!” Cedric replied.

“What’s a movie?” Victor asked.

“You’ve never heard of a movie?” Cedric couldn’t believe it.

“No, we didn’t learn of this ‘movie’. We are kept in the camp since we are infants, trained throughout our lives, leaving only to hunt monsters near the camp or complete a quest.” Viktor spoke with pride.

“Seriously? That’s pretty cool!” Cedric said. “We find this school on our own, usually running from monsters. Then we have the option every summer to stay or go home to our families, but most of us stay. It must be hard staying at camp forever, not knowing anything else.”

“Well, I enjoy it,” Viktor said. “We become stronger the more we train, and we never stop training. We have ten year olds who can beat your strongest warriors.”

Cedric laughed. “I doubt that, but that's pretty cool. I bet you guys are super tough! You look like you can kill me with one punch, mate!”

“No, I’d simply have to jab your trachea with my finger, then you’d die.” Viktor said. He obviously wasn’t joking.

Then they heard a conch horn in the distance and a lot of cheering. “Alright gang! Time to see what you’re made of! Step lively, c’mon!” Mr. Black yelled.

“Well, time to go!’ Cedric said. “I hope we both get to go on the quest, you’re a really cool guy, mate.” 

“I enjoyed your company, Cedric. Hopefully we shall meet again.” Viktor replied. Then they ran up the hill.

When they reached the top, they were greeted by a magnificent sight. Every student was cheering for them, making a path and giving high fives. Cedric made sure to give several. Once they got through the crowd, they saw their first challenge: the Climbing Wall.

FIfty feet tall, the Climbing Wall was very dangerous. It dropped rocks, spewed lava, and when things seemed perfectly normal, it slammed its two sides together, attempting to crush the climbers. This challenge would be fun! 

“”Welcome, everyone, to the first Trial!” Mr. Lupin yelled to the assembled crowd. Even Mr. Lupin seemed affected by the energy radiating through the eyes of the kids, he seemed about five years younger. “For this trial, this will be a bit of a race.”

By the time the younger demigods began murmuring, Mr. Black had already thrown a spear up into the air, landing at the top of the climbing wall. ‘Ooh’s and ‘aah’s were heard from all the students. 

“Your object is to reach the spear. Simple, isn’t it?” Lupin smirked.

As the contenders began to gather around the wall, choosing their point of entry, Mr. Lupin continued. 

“Oh, I almost forgot, I may have added some, ah, slight changes to this obstacle course,” Mr. Lupin said, waving his hand in the air. The moment he did, the wall began to transform. What was once a double sided rock wall was now a circular structure that looked like a lighthouse without walls or a ceiling, just the winding staircase.These ‘stairs’ rotated, flipped, dropped, were picked back up, and even caught on fire, which was all that Cedric could see in his few seconds of dazed observation. He was sure they did so much more, though. There were also wooden planks swinging like bats, pendulums, and windmills, obviously meant to knock the contestants off. Ropes hung off the side, but Cedric could see that they could get easily tangled in all the machinery around them, so he wasn’t about to use one. At the top, the spear could be seen by all, encircled by a giant laurel wreath. That was Cedric’s target, and he knew he would get there.

“Now, before we begin, a few rules,” Mr. Black said, gathering around them. “No weapons or magical items on the course. If you have an ability, I suggest you use it, but try not to kill anyone. You can fight your opponents, but once again, try not to kill anyone. That means you, Yang.” The Greeks laughed, knowing Sherman Yang’s love of bloodshed. “This thing’ll start in about., eh, ten seconds, so good luck!” He walked off towards the spot where the teachers stood. 

“Viktor!” Cedric yelled. He wanted to wish his new friend luck, but he couldn’t see him. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

“I am right here. What is it?” Viktor asked, appearing behind Cedric suddenly.

“Just wanted to wish you luck,” Cedric said, extending his hand. This time Viktor didn’t hesitate to shake it. 

“Thank you my friend. I will see you at the top, but I will be there first.” He said with a smile.

“Sure, bigman, see ya at the top,” Cedric said with a smile of his own. The two left to find the point where they would enter the course. Cedric found a spot where the stairs rotated quickly, but there was a rope. He could swing up using the rope, use the rotating step to bounce off of, and dash off to the next part of the course. If he pulled this off, he’d have a big lead from the start. This had to work!

“You may begin in three! Two! And…” Mr. Lupin said dramatically. “ONE!”

)-(

Cedric realized that he calculated his jump perfectly. He ran up to course, grabbed his rope, jumped off the rotating step, and swung into the air. Some of the other students calculated a similar move and were very successful. Others either fell immediately or were still scrambling to find a way up.

Once Cedric’s feet hit the next step, which was thankfully still, he realized that he had no plan after the first maneuver. If he didn’t think of something quickly, then he would quickly lose this contest. He looked around, seeing Viktor, who seemed to have grown a foot, fighting the others. He kicked an egyptian kid off his platform and to the ground, took a punch from Malcolm without flinching, and slapped him across the face with a hand crackling with energy. Son of Thor, he said? This must’ve been his power, amplified strength and energy attacks. Cedric was terrified, but he had to keep moving. 

He grabbed a spinning wooden plank and rode it to the platform above him, where another battle took place. A large eagle was fighting the blonde girl from the House of Life. It pecked at her faces, leaving a bleeding scratch. She tried to bat it away, but she couldn’t. Just as the bird aimed a talon slash at her eyes, she yelled a strange word and the bird plummeted to the ground, transforming into a boy in a green T-shirt on the way down. 

Cedric stared, his jaw hitting the floor. What was that? What did she just do? Who was she? Then she turned to him. Cedric started to back away, not wanting to be next on the blast list, but then she ducked. He was a little confused, until he got smacked in the back of the head by a plank. Then he blacked out momentarily. 

When he came to, he was falling. Cedric began to scream, then noticed he was still in the Trial. He didn’t know what just happened, but he knew that he wasn’t out of the game. Cedric grabbed a rope, swung around the course,and could see the blonde girl and Viktor almost at the top. They were on completely different sides, so there was little hope they’d slow each other down by fighting. 

_ No, don’t focus on them,  _ he reminded himself  _ What now? Where are you going?  _

Cedric saw a step that was rotating around the tower, but it would soon be directly in front of him. The only problem was, someone else, Valhalla kid, probably, was already on it. Cedric sighed and swung towards it. 

He let go of the rope, plummeting towards the safe step. The kid on it met his eyes, but she had little time to do more than that. Cedric crashed into her, sending her tumbling down, screaming all the way. 

“Sorry!” Cedric yelled after her. Then he began making his way up. 

He dodged obstacle after obstacle. Flaming platforms, pendulum planks; not blades, thankfully, a few falling rocks, and the tower shaking twice failed to stop him. The other contestants, however, were more challenging. 

A House of LIfe boy, wearing linen robes, stood in front of him. He was very tall and muscular. Cedric was reminded of a basketball player. As they locked eyes, the boy’s arm grew larger and glowed blue. This was bad. 

With a yell, the boy thrust his giant fist at Cedric, who ducked and rolled away. The punch left a smoking crater in the wood where Cedric’s head used to be.Then another glowing punch was sent. Then another, and another, and another. Cedric was barely able to dodge them. How was he doing this? The bloke sent punches that could break stone(which they did, because Cedric tried to lose him after a rockslide was triggered, but it didn’t work), repeatedly, without a moment's pause , and he wasn’t breaking a sweat! Was he the son of a war god? No, they study the gods in the House, so was he studying the war god? Strength god? God of blue fists? He needed help! Cedric wished he had an ability that could help him here… oh wait he did. 

“Run away!” Cedric yelled, using his charmspeak. The bloke’s glowing hand disappeared, revealing his normal one. Then he ran, screaming, up the steps, towards the top. Cedric knew he really should’ve specified to run the other way, but at least he could now focus.

Then Cedric heard cheering. Someone probably made it to the top already. Panic flooded Cedric’s mind. He had to win this! If not, then be the first Greek, or else chances were slim he’d make it to the quest. What to do, what to do….

Behind him came a laugh. A bare chested bloke with a fresh looking cut on his cheek stood there, a mad gleam in his eyes. This had to be a Valhalla kid, not even the Ares kids were this crazy. Then the guy ran, screaming and laughing at once, towards him. 

_ Time to wing it!  _ Cedric thought as he jumped off the platform. He grabbed a pendulum-swinging pole and used it to shoot himself to the top. He spun in midair, narrowly avoiding another swinging pole and a flaming step. He then gracefully landed like a gymnast at the top of the tower. To his dismay, three other people were already there. One was that bloke that almost flattened him with his glowing fist. Another was Viktor, who Cedric was happy to see. However, neither one of them held the spear, meaning neither of them had won. He turned to the last person, and sure enough, the spear was in their hands. They turned around, and it was the blonde from the House of Life. 

“Cedric, my friend,” said Viktor, clapping a large hand on his shoulder. “You have made it.”

“Yeah, good to see you too!” He said. “But who’s she?”

“Ah, they call her Fleur. She’s impressive, no? She sent some magic at my face and grabbed the spear as I was not looking. She is very powerful.” Viktor said, clearly stating his respect. “Do you wish to congratulate her?”

“Yeah!” Cedric said, walking past the scowling blue-fist bloke and towards Fleur. She was about an inch or two shorter than him, and built like a ballet dancer. Graceful, but agile and strong. Her dark blue eyes glowed like sapphires in the sun. Cedric thought she looked pretty. She also seemed more laid back and calm then her fellow Egyptians.

“Hi! I’m Cedric!” he said, extending a hand. She shook it immediately. “I am Fleur. Pleased to meet you!” She had a heavy french accent, but Cedric could understand her easily. Perhaps it was some Egyptian magic, but Cedric thought that it was just the fact that she seemed to be very invested in the conversation and focused all of her energy into it that Cedric forced himself to listen more. They just said hi and he already knew she was awesome!

“Congrats on winning, that was impressive!” He said.

“Why thank you!” she replied with a beaming smile.

“How’d you do the, uh, the…” he waved his hands around in front of him, pretending to cast a spell. Fleur giggled

“You mean my magic,” Fleur said. 

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, I trained for years. Since I was five. We learn the part of the gods when we turn twelve.” She said it like she was telling an old story.

“Ooooh,” Cedric was interested. “How does that work, can anyone do it? Do you learn all your gods or just one? Are you a demigod?

“No, no, we aren’t children of the gods, just students. And no, not everyone can do it, but most can if they’re trained from early in life. And we just study one god, each of us chooses one at age twelve. I chose Nephthys.” 

“Wow, that’s so cool! Who’s Nephthys?” Cedric asked. 

“She is the goddess of the family. Who do you study here?” Fleur asked.

“Uh, we don’t really study, we just are kinda born with our powers. My mom’s Aphrodite, goddess of love.” 

“How interesting! What powers does she give you? How does she answer prayers without study? Are you bonded with her? Does she-” Fleur was interrupted by the conch horn. The Trial was over. Everyone that could make it was at the top of the tower. Others lie on the ground, groaning and trying to sit up. Cedric saw the Valhalla girl he tackled try to stand and then stumble back onto the ground. He felt sorry for her.

“Everyone, we have a winner!” Mr. Lupin said from the bottom of the tower. Slowly the tower shrunk into the ground. “Miss Fleur Delacour of the House of LIfe!” 

Everyone cheered, Cedric did so very loudly. She yelled several ‘thank you!’s back to the crowd. Her shining smile showed her joy and pride. Cedric looked at his new friends, VIktor and Fleur. He couldn’t wait to compete with them in the next trials.

)-(

The day after the first trial, Fleur, Viktor, and Cedric decided to sit together at lunch. It was nice to have more people to talk to besides their family. They sat at a table, in the corner farthest from the counselor's table, and began to talk.

“Great to see you guys again!” Cedric said, grinning from ear to ear.

“We were together yesterday, Cedric,” Viktor said. “It has been less than a day and you act like we have been gone for ages.” 

“Eh, I’m just glad to see you mate!” Cedric said, raising his hand for a high five. Viktor looked confused for a moment, then slowly gave him the high five.

“Eh, we’ll work on it, anyway!” he exclaimed with a smile, “What do you guys think the next challenge is.” He and Draco had been debating this, and although he felt bad about keeping parts of it from him, he still liked to talk about it with him. The other two smirked and began to talk to him, overlapping a bit about what they had heard from sneaking around their own counselors and leaders. 

“Cedric and I discussed monsters. Perhaps they will expect us to fight or tame monsters.” Viktor suggested.

“That would be tough,” Fleur said. “For some reason, me and the sphinxes have never gotten along. And I hate demons, they look so weird.”

“Wait, what? Demons? You actually have those?” Cedric said, shocked.

“Cultural difference, my friend,” Viktor said. “We have different beasts in our worlds.You’ve never seen a jötunn before, and I’ve never seen these, sphinx things.”

“Yontu- yeah, I won’t ask,” Cedric said. “Bit of a tangent, but what are your guys’ powers? I kinda saw what you guys can do, but I’m just really curious.”

Victor and Fleur didn’t say anything. Cedric knew they believed he was going to use this information to help himself in the trials, but honestly he just wanted to know. He was curious about what the powers the other camps had and thought it would be cool to know.

“I’ll go first,” Cedric said, hoping this would alleviate the suspicion. “My mom’s Aphrodite, goddess of love. I can do something called charmspeak, where I can control people by talking.”

“Oooooh…” said Fleur, looking impressed. “How did you learn that?”

“Uh, I just know how to do it. I was kinda born with it.” Cedric said, confused.

“Ah yes, I keep forgetting that you Greeks and Norse are children of the gods,” Fleur said. “Do all of your siblings have this power?”

“Nope, I’m the only one in my cabin right now who can. It's pretty rare, actually.”

“Cabin?” Viktor asked. 

“Oh, we’re arranged into cabins based on who our parents are.” Cedric explained.

“But what if someone is alone in the cabin?” Viktor asked.

“Then they get the cabin to themself.” Cedric said.

“Hm,” Viktor grunted, obviously thinking how that was a bad idea. “Anyway, I suppose I will go next. I am the son of Thor, and I can grow stronger in a fight and charge my weapons and fists with lightning.”

“Oh, your dad is in the movies!” Fleur said excitedly.

“I do not understand, but Cedric said the same thing,” Viktor said, scratching his goatee. “Was he the god of thunder in this ‘movie’?”

“Yeah, and he had a hammer!” Fleur said.

“Hm, yes, that is him,” Viktor said, still confused but interested. “What about you, Fleur?”

“I studied the goddess Nephthys, the helpful goddess.” Fleur began.

“Why do you call her the helpful goddess?” Cedric asked.

“She is involved with many things, like life, death, healing, the river, and things like that, but that is her simplified title. She was not very powerful, but her help was crucial for Osiris to be brought back to life, so she is helpful.”

“Wait, brought back to life?!” Cedric asked, surprised.

“Yes, the god Osiris was killed, and was resurrected so he may rule the underworld.” Fleur explained.

“That’s interesting. Our gods just kinda stay alive until they’re forgotten.” Cedric said.

“Gods that can’t die?” Viktor asked. “Then how would they battle and die at Ragnarok?”

“Ragna-what?” Fleur asked. 

“The final battle where the gods and giants fight and the world ends. Legends say that everyone dies in the fighting.” Viktor explained.

“That’s… depressing.” Fleur said.

“No, its destiny,” Viktor said with pride. “When I die, I want to join Odin’s army and fight at that final battle.”

“Why?” Fleur asked. “You’d just die. You said everyone dies”

“For glory and honor.” Viktor said, looking into the distance. Fleur and Cedric looked at each other, both thinking  _ ooooooookaaaaay… seems like a lousy reason to die. _

Cedric cleared his throat. “Anyay, what powers does Net-tees give you?” he asked.

“It's Nephthys, and she lets me strengthen my allies and weaken my enemies. I can heal others, make them stronger, faster, and smarter than before. But I can make my enemies weak and ill, neutralizing their abilities and fogging their minds. I can completely change the outcome of a battle, and all I need to do is say the words.”

Viktor looked mildly impressed, and Cedric was so surprised his jaw almost hit the floor. “And I thought my power was cool, you guys are like actual gods!”

“Yes, we are strong, but don’t underestimate yourself, my friend.” Viktor said.

“Yeah!” Fleur added. “You can end battles before they begin, win wars without losing a single person, you can have anyone do anything you want! I bet you could even make Viktor here smile!” Cedric and she laughed, and Viktor gave a small chuckle. Surprisingly, he gave a small smile before his lips reverted back to their neutral position. 

They talked and talked the rest of lunch, not noticing the food laid in front of them. When lunch ended, they didn’t even realize they forgot to eat. They walked together around the camp, talking about their lives at their camps, their different gods, what the next challenge could be, and everything under the sun. Cedric really hoped they would be chosen to go on the quest together. He barely met them yesterday, but by the end of the day he felt like he had always known them. He trusted them immensely, and knew they felt the same way. They had had a three way duel in the sword fighting arena and realized that they practically read each other’s minds and thus couldn’t land a single hit on each other. They felt like such a team, like it was their destiny to fight alongside one another. Cedric knew now with absolute certainty that he had to go on this quest, or die trying.

)-(

Harry sat down by the river, against an old tree that produced very few leaves. No one knew this, but Harry liked to draw. He always had. It was a great way to get his mind to focus on one thing, since his ADHD made that difficult. This spot by the river was one of his favorite spots to draw. Looking across the river, you could see the whole camp. The cabins, all mismatched and odd looking up close seemed perfectly placed from here.The Big House was a gentle giant, big, strong, and peaceful. It was a great view, and the best place for inspiration. 

He looked around for a moment before deciding to draw some of the Naiads in the river. They had always interested him, looking so happy underwater, weaving baskets and doing cartwheels. 

Many campers, Ron included, found the Naiads really attractive and would come to the rivers to gawk and hit on them. Well, it had been a while since Ron did it, but a lot of the Apollo boys did it. Harry always found that strange and rather disrespectful. Why disturb them? Harry just wanted to draw one, and they made great models. When they saw him drawing, they’d ask him to draw them.

Harry had just begun drawing one of the Naiads, her name was Delta, when he heard something nearby. The Naiads heard it too, they swam off immediately.

“No, wait! Damn it!” Harry yelled. He turned around to find Draco leaning against the tree. His anger slowly melted away. “Oh, hey Draco! What’re you doing here?”

“Me? I was- yeah know- doing- walking,” Draco stuttered. “What about you? Doodling?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, remembering about how his model just swam away. “Well, I was.”

“Oh, cool,” Draco said. “Mind if I sit?” Harry shrugged, so Draco sat down next to him at the base of the tree. “So what’re you drawing?”

“I was drawing the Naiads,” Harry said. “They got scared though, and they're gone.”

“Oh, was that me? I’m really sorry about that, mate.” Draco said.

“Nah, it's fine,” Harry said. “I'll find something else to draw.”

“And I’ve never seen a Naiad up close before-’ Draco started.

“Wait, seriously?” Harry interrupted. “You’ve spent years at this school and have never once seen a Naiad?” 

“Well, I saw the ones the Aphrodites gossip with, but from kinda far away, and Blaise and Pansy have described them before, and we studied them, but never up close.”

“Damn, we need to fix that,” Harry said. He pulled a penny out of his pocket and dropped it into the river. Almost instantly, three Naiads swam by to look at it.

“Wow, how’d you do that?” Draco asked, amazed. 

“Naiads are like fish, they like shiny things,” Harry said. “Hermione told me that.”

“They’re amazing!” Draco said, his mouth hanging ajar. “What exactly are they?”

“Beats me,” Harry shrugged. “Maybe some kind of water spirits, like nymphs, but watery.”

“They’re really pretty,” Draco said, going back to staring at them with some child-like wonder. His hair was shiny in the sun, and his grey eyes sparkled bright, so bright they almost looked like a pale blue. Quietly picking up his pencil and pad, Harry started to quickly sketch the blonde boy, making to capture every detail he could before he lost this image. It wasn’t hard for him to escape Draco’s attention, he was so focused on the Naiads.

He stared and sketched, starting with the basic outline of his face, then his hair, then his eyes, and finally his smile. When adding the details, he felt he could never get his eyes or smile quite right. It was too wide and his eyes were too dim, or his eyes were a bit too big and his smile too toothy, but he worked tirelessly, almost grinding his eraser into dust, until he got it just right.

Even through the sketch and shading, you could see how radiant his skin was, catching the sunlight with a dewy glow. His hair had nearly each strand individually drawn, and the sheen off of it made it look so healthy, even through paper. His eyes reflected the lake and Naiads, with small crinkles by their eyes, beginning what would be smile lines later on in life. And his smile. Oh his smile. It was wide and calm, his jaw slightly dropped and his breath, bated and hesitant, trying to hold back his delight at the creatures in front of him.

But that’s not all Harry drew.

He noticed, as he looked upon his creation, that he had gotten in part of his neck. The bite mark to be precise. Harry blinked, then shook his head, but there it was. Faded but still there. He scratched his head a bit, not remembering that he had drawn it, then looked up.

Draco still was looking at the spirits, his shoulder coming up to balance and reposition himself, but Harry felt himself start to reach out, to touch the bite. Draco turned though, and saw him with his hand stretched out. They both looked at each other, Harry embarrassed and Draco apprehensive, before the former caught himself out of his stupor, packed up his things, and left. 

This was all too much for him.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the late update, just some misunderstanding on mine and Kat's part of who was going to update. So we'll have this chapter posted today, and the next chapter tomorrow. Hope you enjoy both!

That night, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down at the campfire. Despite all the new and unfamiliar faces, the excitement from the Trials kept everyone content and excited. Spirits were high, and several friendships between students of different camps had begun to form. 

“Have either of you met any of the ones from other camps?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Nah, those House blokes are too uptight, and the freaking Vikings are probably on crack,” Ron said with a chuckle. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“Nah, they don’t seem to wanna talk.” Harry said. 

“Well I met someone from the House of Life,” Hermione said.

“Well, I bet you’re gonna tell u-” Ron began.

“Her name is Lynn and she's from England. She’s studied the god of wisdom Thoth and can do all kinds of amazing magic! We met in the library and-” Hermione went on and on about her new friend. Ron stopped paying attention and Harry simply couldn’t understand her, she was talking too fast.

“She can write things on paper and immediately summon what she wrote! How cool is that?! I wonder what she could do with-”  _ BOOM! _ A sound like a thunder clap echoed through the camp. When Harry snapped out of his shock, he could assume it came from the campfire. Everyone looked towards the campfire, and they could see shapes moving. Not just the tendrils of flame twirling about like a normal fire, but those tendrils spinning into a solid form, and that form seemed to grow. It started forward, like it was an actual humanoid with flesh, but turned, and walked right into Trelawney, their current Oracle, the form turning green right before it entered her being. Her eyes lit up as she looked towards the heavens, where all their parents resided.

_ “During the summer of his 14th year _

_ A son of Hermes will appear. _

_ Lightning mark upon his face _

_ As dark plans of vengeance take place.” _

There was a pause, and many began to laugh nervously when she started the second stanza. They had all heard of this prophecy before, and although it seemed to have changed a couple things, it was still the same, so no one knew why she was sprouting that crap about two centuries too late, but then, her haunting voice continued.

_ “Dust shall never rise to dawn _

_ As all the four walk along. _

_ And as the monster who was once man will rise _

_ Darkness will spill from both red eyes.” _

The Pavilion was silent, eyes wide and breath caught in their throats. Then, and breakneck speed, they all turned to look at Harry.

Harry had no idea what just happened. What did the fire thing say? The Four Dust Plans Walk with Red Eyes? Everyone still looked at him. Then he remembered the first four lines the fire thing spoke:

_ During the summer of his 14th year _

_ A son of Hermes will appear. _

_ Lightning mark upon his face _

_ As dark plans of vengeance take place. _

He was the son of Hermes, and he had a lightning mark: the scar on his forehead. He wasn’t seventeen yet, and that’s what the original prophecy spoke, and what ‘dark plans’ were taking place? Was this his fault? He didn’t think so.

Mr. Lupin cleared his throat. “Well, it's getting late, we should all head back to our cabins, good night everyone! All campers, return to your cabins immediately!”

Harry stood there in the sea of people, unable to move or think. He saw Hermione and Ron get swept up in the crowd, probably being walked back to their cabins. Soon he was alone, staring out at the empty amphitheatre seats and the last dying coals of that bloody fire. 

Harry had no clue what just happened. Was that a prophecy or something? He’d only seen one other, and it was written on a tiny, ripped piece of paper that was behind a display case in the Big House, the original one. The one where the first four lines of this prophecy came from. It must have. It was the one everyone thought revolved around him.

Harry knew he was getting nowhere with thinking. His brain was exhausted and his heart was still racing from the excitement and fear. Having nothing better to do, he walked back to his cabin. It was a new moon, and no moon was visible in the night sky. His walk back to the Hermes cabin was a dark, lonely, and frightening one. Every shadow seemed to reach for him, every sound seemed to whisper to him. The stars were the only light he could see, but they did not help illuminate his path. Thankfully, he’d walked this trail since he was eleven, so he knew where to go. He just wished it was less dark.

Walking in, he noticed that it was the quietest it had ever been, and even though he never lifted his head, he knew all their eyes were on him, and it burned. He wanted to snap out and ask what they were waiting for, but at that point, he just wanted to sleep. So sleep he did. Just went over to his bed, took off his glasses, got under the warm covers, and slept.

It was a dreamless night.

Oh, how he would miss them in the coming weeks.

)-(

When Harry woke up the next morning, it was silent in his cabin. It was never silent, not around Hermes kids. His rowdy siblings stopped goofing off when he walked near them, and averted their eyes when he did manage to talk to one of them. Harry knew they either thought he was either a god and they were showing respect, which they rarely did, or they were convinced he was cursed and were scared. Definitely the latter. Harry couldn’t blame them, not when he was thinking the same thing.

He walked with his cabinmates to the dining pavilion, where he felt the gaze of hundreds of eyes. Everyone was looking at him. He sat down at the table with his friends, Hermione, Ron, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco. They were a little more quiet than usual, but they kept talking to him. Harry was glad. At least his friends didn’t think he was a walking curse.

Draco, however, talked to him as little as possible. Harry knew that was his own fault. Why did he have to try and touch the mark on his neck? Why did he walk away after that? He could’ve given some lame excuse, like there was a bug or something. Really, trying to touch his friend’s bite mark was weird. What had gotten into him?

He did notice, however, that Draco kept stealing glances at him, almost as if he was concerned, but figured that he was worried of being ‘infected’ by the curse. He silently cursed his scar once more.

He shoveled his food in his mouth at ‘Ron’ speed, scarfing down whatever he could fit to escape the awkwardness around him. 

“Harry, um, there is something that we wanted to ask you,” Hermione started, grabbing his hand before he could run to wherever he was going to go. He blinked long and slowly before sitting down again. “Yeah, Mione?”

“Did you, um,” she looked off to the side. “Did you know that you were going to be a part of this quest?”

He huffed out a laugh. “What do you mean, I’m not a part of the quest, I’m cursed, or do you forget the whole son of Hermes thing?”

“That’s what I mean, Harry! You are a part of the quest. It mentioned you, then the four walking along, or something along those lines. Anyway, there was only supposed to be three upon the quest, one from each camp, but instead it’s four. Harry,” she lowered to voice to a concerned whisper, “it’s you.”

Harry thought about this. He thought the prophecy thing meant he was going to die or something. Now he was a part of the quest. He supposed that was better than death and curses, but he didn’t want to go on the quest. Like Ron, he didn’t really trust the other camps, and he was not prepared at all for whatever they were supposed to do on the quest. Did he have to compete in the Trials? Was there a chance he would die? Harry was so overwhelmed.

“I. . . I’ve got to go.”

Harry rushed out of the Dining Pavilion and speed walked all the way over to the Strawberry Fields, hiding amongst them so he could be willingly alone with his thoughts. No one walked by, it was Monday and everyone was in class by now. Even the kids from other camps were, they sat in and watched the classes. Harry didn’t really care, but he was glad it let him be alone.

)-(

The next day, after most of the students had finished their breakfast, Mr. Lupin stood up from the head table and began to speak.

“This afternoon, an hour after lunch, the second Trial shall begin!” he said. Everyone was excited. The first trial was awesome, with the climbing wall 2.0 and the crazy stunts that Fleur and Viktor pulled. If that had been only the first challenge, what could the next one hold?

“We won’t say too much about the trial, but it will be a race of sorts,” Mr. Lupin grinned. “A rather interesting one at that. Enjoy your day, and good luck to our competitors!”

Harry was excited to see the next trial, but he was worried. Now that the prophecy had forced him into the quest, would he have to take part in this trial? The Climbing Wall thing was crazy, and this was the next challenge. As anyone with at least a little common sense knows, each level is harder than the one before it. If this was worse than the climbing wall, would he survive?  _ Let's not overreact,  _ Harry told himself,  _ no one told me I was in, so I’m probably not- _ Harry’s train of thought was interrupted by Mr. Black walking towards him.

“Oi, Potter!” he said. “Great news, lad, you’re competing in the next trial!”

Well, Harry knew he was dead now. “W-w-what? B-but I’m not-”   
“Not sixteen or older? Ah, that’s alright. The prophecy said you’d be in the quest. Now, we’re putting you in the quest no matter what, but you’re gonna be in the Trials just so we can see what you can do, ‘kay? Excellent! See you an hour after lunch!” Then he quickly walked away, leaving Harry with no time to ask questions or think about what just happened. 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah mate, you look like shit,” Ron said.

“I’m… in the trials?” Harry said, his face white as a sheet.

Ron and Hermione’s faces drained of their blood and went ashy. The former’s was in pure shock while the latter’s looked concerned but not surprised. 

“Blimey, Harry, wha. . . I can’t. . . fuck.” Ron’s voice stuttered in and out while his mouth stayed agape. Hermione nodded sagely. “I figured as much, but I was really hoping they wouldn’t do it.  Look,” she whispered conspiratorially, “I don’t know what they have planned, but I heard Diggory might know, so you would want to ask him. It’s the only way you’ll be prepared for all this.”

He sighed. This was all becoming too much for his adolescent brain to handle. 

He stood up. “I have to go. I’ll see you at dinner.” Walking off, he decided to bite the bullet and go over to see Diggory. 

Pretty boy was at a table with two other people, one was the model-looking Egyptian girl who won in the last trial, and the other was an ox with a goatee from Camp Valhalla. Why did the three most skilled competitors have to be friends? That just made it worse for the rest of them, especially Harry. He knew he was the weakest, so why did the strongest have to teamup?

“Hey, Cedric,” Harry said.

Digory looked up from his conversation and gave an unnaturally white smile. “Hey, Evans, right? How are you?”

“Uh, fine,” Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. “Mind if I have a word?”

“Sure, mate! ‘Scuse, me guys, I’ll be right back.” He got up and walked over with Harry to an unoccupied table. “What can I do for ya?”

“Well, uh, I guess I’m in the trials now, so… can I have some tips? What to do? What to expect?”

‘“Sure!” He thought for a second. “Well, you already are in the quest, so you don’t have to try too hard, I guess,” Harry sighed. “But the others do. It doesn’t matter necessarily what place you get for each trial, what matters is how well you use your skills, fight, think, stuff like that. You, being the youngest and least prepared, look like an enticing practice dummy to show off on,” Harry flopped his head onto the table. He knew it. He was dead. “But you’re in Hermes. You’re fast, clever, you have all kinds of gadgets that can do… whatever they do. In this challenge, anything goes, I heard. Use your strengths, and you should be alright!” 

Harry felt a little better. Just a little bit. He did have some cool stuff that he was itching to use, and he could steal, no ‘borrow’, some more from his siblings, but would they be enough to keep him alive?

He didn’t know, and frankly, it wouldn’t do him much to worry. So he set off to the canoe lake. At least there he could draw a bit more.

)-(

An hour after lunch, Harry was still terrified and had almost no idea what he was about to do. On the plus side, he had a jacket with massive pockets (and four pockets on the inside) stuffed to the brim with cool stuff. On his hip was a sword. He was ready, physically at least. Mentally, he could barely form a thought that wasn’t  _ I’m gonna die! _

He had gathered with the rest of the older campers at the lake. He now had some idea of what was going to happen, it was a boat race, maybe? 

“Ok you little, scally wankers,” Mr. Black began, clapping his hand together. “Here’s it’s going to go: Only about 5 from each group are going to go at a time, what you’re going to do is race across the lake; no powers.” He looked over the lot of them, and, when seeing no complaints, continued.

“After that, you’re going to run along the trail, and over to the edge of the woods. From there, we will give you a basket and you must collect about 50 strawberries each, but you must find the ones that are special, you’ll know it when you see it. After that, you will return here to the docks, where we will have a record of your timing and will count your strawberries. During this, you are allowed to use weapons to your advantage, but please don’t kill anyone. Got that?” He looked over them once more. 

He smirked. “Good.”

Harry hadn’t heard the first half of what Mr. Black said, so the second half made absolutely no sense. Was he supposed to get fifteen strawberries and feed them to the pegasi? Then what were the boats for? Why was everyone waiting at the dock when the pegasi stables were on the other side of camp?

He saw his own campers tentatively walking towards the canoes, along with the others, so he decided to try and focus on what they were doing to figure it all out. He decided to watch Diggory, he always knew what to do, Harry supposed. He was getting into a canoe, so Harry decided to do the same. He began picking things out of his pocket. Smoke bombs, cord guns, little horns with feet that were super annoying, and much more. Maybe it’d help him survive?

“The trial begins in THREE!” Mr. Black yelled. Harry looked around for his oar.

“TWO!” He grabbed the oar. Then he dropped it into the lake.

“ONE!” Harry scrambled to grab his oar and rocked the boat, almost capsizing.

“GO!” Most of the canoes sped off. Harry was left in the dust. He didn’t take canoeing as a class, he thought it was useless. Harry mentally kicked himself for his stupidity. He slowly began moving up the lake, randomly spinning at times. He felt like a cartoon character on the telly. Eventually he moved fast enough to be right behind the canoe in the back of the pack. It was Conner, his head counselor. Conner turned to Harry with a smirk.

“Sorry, mate!” he said as he threw something behind him. “Not sorry!” Whatever he threw landed in Harry’s boat with a clunk. Then green smoke that smelled like rotten eggs filled the canoe. Under different circumstances, Harry would’ve asked how he made that thing; he’d never made a working stink bomb before. At that moment, all Harry could think about was how much his nose burned. It didn’t smell so much like rotten eggs now, it smelled indescribably evil. He coughed and spluttered for a few seconds. When he could open his eyes again, Conner was long gone.

Harry was done messing around. He pulled out something from his left pocket, a neon blue whoopie cushion. He stole it a few days ago from one of his cabin mates, and supposedly it let out a lot of air. He pointed it at the water and let it rip. 

With a sound like, well, a whoopie cushion, a giant gust of wind erupted from the toy and the canoe shot forward like a torpedo. He passed Connor and threw a random thing from his pocket at him. He heard a small explosion, and he didn’t look back to see what he did.

He ended up in the middle of the crowd of canoes as the whoopie cushion ran out of air. Harry realised this was bad only after a throwing star embedded itself in the wood near his hand. He looked around and saw it was an absolute warzone. Projectiles flew throughout the air, swords clashed, and eyes turned to the new challenger: him. Powers may not have been allowed, but any and all tools and weapons were. Harry looked for another whoopie cushion, maybe a firework, something to blast him forward, but he couldn’t find it. He dodged an arrow as it sailed right in front of his eyes and missed his glasses by an inch. He did find a foldable shield, which was a folded piece of titanium. It was a prototype Conner stole from the Hephaestus cabin and distributed it to the rest of the cabin. He unfolded it and wrapped it around him like a blanket. A dart hit the metal and bounced off. Thank goodness for stealing! He’d have to thank Conner, after he apologized for blowing up his boat.

Then next to him was that bloke from Valhalla, the strong one with the goatee. He slammed an axe into another person’s canoe and headbutted the person on it into the lake. He may not be using his powers, but he is still insanely strong.

The boy and Harry locked eyes, and for a split second, Harry thought he might have to use his powers to even  _ survive,  _ but the other just looked at him, nodded, then went off to go destroy more boats and fight other people. Something just seemed very off about him, his movements were too loose and erratic, his hands shook at times, and his eyes were bloodshot. Was he on drugs? Hermione told him what she read on the vikings, and what they did in battle. She said some, called berserkers, took drugs before battle to go completely crazy. Harry was sure this qualified as crazy. Wait, if he was crazy, why did he let Harry go? 

Before Harry could think about it, his boat bumped into someone else's. The girl (someone from the Norse base) stared at him incredulously, her eyes bloodshot, before practically leaping out of her boat into his. She screamed like a banshee and tackled him with all her considerable strength. Harry felt all the air get knocked out of him. She pulled a knife from her belt and thrust it at him.It would have lodged in his jugular, but thankfully her aim was off and she hit a smoke bomb in his chest pocket. With a boom, the boat filled with acrid, black smoke. The girl was startled and dropped her knife into the river, giving Harry the opportunity to shove her off of his boat. She didn’t react until she hit the water, then she began screaming and foaming at the mouth. What did they give these kids?

He managed to get out of the mini barricade of canoes that was beginning to form, and get closer to shore. When he was about in hip deep water, another boat rammed in from behind him, knocking him out of his and onto his ass. Pushing the canoe off of him, he blinked the water out of his eyes and looked up. Another boy was looking down on him, almost with a maniacal grin on his face, worse than the other two Norse he saw. Even worse than the grin was the cruel curved blade in his hand. Harry had never seen a weapon like it. He had seen Ron’s cabin mates use sickles, but this wasn’t like that, it was just strange. Harry wondered how sharp it was. He bet it could cut his head off if he didn’t try to defend himself.

Harry rose from the water and thanked every god he knew that his sword was still strapped to his belt. He drew it and was glad to see that it was longer than the other boy’s blade. Harry thought he had the upper hand. He was wrong. Harry had trained with a blade for a few years, and had become rather good at it. This kid used the blade like it was an extension of his arm. He seemed calm and even a little bored during the fight. Harry was already getting tired while this bloke yawned a moment ago. Harry thought he was doomed before the bloke locked his sword in the blade’s hook and tossed it behind him onto the land. After that, he knew he was doomed. 

Unless, of course, he came up with a stupidly brilliant plan. He had a stupid plan, not a stupidly brilliant one, but it would have to do. He reached into his pocket, grabbed a handful of objects, and chucked them in the general direction of the boy. It was a beautiful sight. Smoke bombs sent multicolored streams of smoke everywhere, slime balls bounced and splattered on the ground, an odd throwing star or two was lobbed into the scene, but wasn’t visible because of the smoke. 

The boy barely flinched, but then the smoke got in his eyes and the slime stuck to his clothes and weapon. He flailed about, splashing water around him, and ironically, giving Harry the perfect cover to escape to shore. He could see a bunch of others up ahead of him, including an absolutely beautiful girl from the House of Life. She looked like her and Draco could’ve been cousins, or even siblings.

Running off, he approached the edge of the lake, and bent down to take a breath. He took in his surroundings the best he could, looking at the rail to his side, before standing back up and running along it. He ran and ran, past the Long Island Sound, along the beach, turning the corner, and past Zeus’ fist. It was about five miles around the long way, but he thanked the gods again that they had running days drilled into the bone since they first showed up at the school. It prevented him from collapsing to heat exhaustion at the very least. 

Harry heard heavy breathing behind him. He turned around and saw another Valhalla kid, but this one didn’t look high. He just looked like he was having a great time. He was about a hundred feet away, gaining ground steadily. Soon he would catch up and Harry would have to fight him off. 

“Come here, little boy!” the Norse bloke shouted. “I will not hurt you!” Then he barked an evil laugh and swung a long knife in front of him.

Why were all the Norse kids absolutely bloodthirsty? 

He charged at Harry, who barely dodged out of the way, taking a small dagger from next to his thigh and ramming it in the other’s abdomen, finally done with all this shite. Not surprisingly, it only seemed to give the other an energy boost, and judging from the fury on his face, Harry might want to run as fast as he could to get out of this alive.

He started running, only to feel the bloke kick him hard in the knee. As Harry fell, his bones rattled in their sockets, and he was sure it was sprained, if not broken. He hit the ground hard, and heard the other boy’s panting.  _ I’m gonna die  _ Harry thought. _ I’m gonna die. I’M GONNA DIE! _

__ Harry’s body began to move without him thinking. It was just pure instinct, his body was doing whatever it could to stay alive. He shot to his feet and began throwing wild punches, harder and faster than he ever had before. The viking bloke was surprised, but he kept blocking them. He kept absorbing the blows with his arms, then he broke his defense and landed a solid hit on Harry’s stomach. All the air was knocked out of Harry. Then he felt hands wrap around his neck. The bloke was choking him to death. The Valhalla boy gave a grin, but it turned to a sneer as his grip began to tighten. Harry could feel himself slipping, the edges of his vision fading to black.  _ I’M GONNA DIE I’M GONNA DIE I’M GONNA DIE! _

__ As Harry began to lose consciousness, he grabbed a small, white, poisoned dart from his pocket, but felt the bloke restrain his hand. Harry couldn’t use the dart with his hand behind his back, but that was one less hand over his throat. His head began to clear slowly, and his brain formulated a plan. He wrenched his hand away from the bloke, so his hands were free. Then he jammed the dart in the center of his chest. Almost immediately, the boy’s pupils began to contract and expand rapidly, then his eyes slowly closed. He released his grip on Harry’s throat, and Harry felt air rush down his throat again. The boy fell over. 

Harry fell to his knees, gulping in all the air his lungs could take. He blinked in and out of consciousness a few times, but he was fine after a few minutes. The Valhalla boy was still lying on his back, unconscious but alive. The dart Harry used was dipped in water from the Hypnos cabin, from the River Lethe. If consumed, the water wiped memories. If injected, the Hermes cabin found out by accident (don’t ask, long story), it sent the victim into a deep sleep and caused amnesia for a few hours after. He might not be able to find his way back, but he had tried to kill Harry. Being a bit lost wasn’t as bad as he deserved, but it was a sufficient punishment for now. 

Harry pulled out the dart and tossed it into the dirt, then continued on the path. He had forgotten what he was supposed to do for this trial, so he had to follow someone and copy what they’re doing, but he had to find someone who wasn’t homicidal first.

Walking off (his lungs were still recovering), he noticed he wasn’t too far from the Strawberry Fields, where he at least knew he had to go. He saw a bunch of others scrambling about picking strawberries, but only certain ones. They were the same color, but. . . off. . . somehow. Almost, like they had a shine to them, not glowing, but an aura. 

He figured that he needed to pick a hundred of them, so grabbed an empty basket he saw nearby and started picking. It was rather tedious, but the rest weren’t focused on killing, more on going as fast as they could. 

He saw that there were some that once they were picked, stayed like regular strawberries for a few seconds, before sprouting back up, not appearing, but actually growing. These strawberries also had a richer color, bright and crisp, like the lipstick that Harry saw his aunt wear everyday. While she was an unpleasant person, he always thought that shade of red looked nice on her. 

He started picking, grabbing his own, but also spotting the areas where those strawberries were just picked, so he could get them all faster. He was quickly filling his basket, desperately keeping track of the number he had so that way he didn’t doubt himself, and even after that, got a few extra just to be on the safe side. 

The basket was nearly overflowing and was extremely heavy, so when he finally started running back to the docks, He was balancing it up in his scrawny chest, running as fast as he could without dropping any, so it looked more like a light jog. 

At this point in the trial, people just tried to make it to the finish line and forgot they could affect the others, so several people ran past Harry, baskets in hand and most looking way less exhausted then him. Harry had seen the sixteen and ups train at his school, and they worked out everyday lifting magical weights and monster hunting every tuesday. If the other camps had anything similar, it showed. Harry was not only the youngest, but the smallest and the scrawniest. Speed and a jacket full of tricks were his only advantages. Speed wouldn’t help him when he was struggling to hold his basket and jog, and he'd have to use his gadgets. He'd have to put his basket down, so he continued jogging, his arms in enormous pain.

He started to get used to the weight, picking up speed a bit, but never faltering even when it  _ did _ get hard for him to keep up with the rest. It didn’t help when the distance from the fields to the docks was around two miles. This school was too big for one person to handle, and yet here Harry was, trying to keep up with sixteen year olds, running from one end to the other and back again.

Finally reaching the docks, he saw a good amount of people back, including Cedric, the blonde magic girl, and the weird Viking who didn’t attack him, and a couple others he didn’t recognize, though there were three other Greeks. He also noticed that the girl who jumped him in his boat and the guy who nearly killed him weren’t there. 

He brought his basket over to Mr. Black, who looked at him in shock, and proceeded to fall on the ground and nearly pass out due to exhaustion. When he slumped down, he looked like a cartoon character, and he certainly felt like one. He was done with this already and he hadn’t even gone on the quest yet. Might as well get in any amount of sleep he could. 

“Woah there, mate,” Cedric said, pulling Harry unsteadily to his feet. “I can’t let you die, not on my watch!”

“Yes, we still have the quest,” the huge bloke said. He didn’t look high anymore. “You can’t die before we begin.”

“You look horrible,” the blonde magic girl said. “And what's that on your neck?” Harry’s neck had a few purple bruises from the Valhalla bloke who tried to kill him.

“Long story,” Harry said. He said it so quietly and feebly that it sounded like “Lon stree…”

“Maybe I can help,” the magic girl said. She began chanting in a weird language. Harry began to feel better immediately. He stood up without Cedric’s help and could feel all the soreness leave his arms.

“Woah, that was… woah!” Harry said. The bruises on his neck faded and were almost completely gone. He felt strong enough to walk back into the woods and kill the Valhalla bloke who attacked him.He wasn’t going to, but he still felt amazing. “Thanks!”

“No problem,” she said with a smile. “I’m Fleur, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Harry,” he said. He thought it was a rather interesting name. “And you, big guy. Never got yours.”

“Viktor,” He said. He had to be almost seven feet tall, and he looked like he could knock out a heavyweight boxer in one punch. Everything about him screamed ‘I can kill you if I want to’, but Cedric seemed to like him, for some strange reason. “Quite impressive. You are not yet sixteen but took fourth place amongst your base. You must be very clever.”

“Eh, that and these,” Harry emptied his pockets to reveal his assortment of wacky devices. Viktor picked up a small rocket and began poking it to see how it worked. “Uh, careful with that, you might-”

The rocket shot from Viktor’s hand at a nearby tree, where it exploded and left a massive dent. Harry sighed. That was a new thing he’d been working on: a rocket that lit when a human hand touched the fuse. At least he knew it worked.

“Not bad.” Viktor said.

“Viktor, I must ask,” Fleur began, “you and several of your comrades acted… differently today. What happened?”

“You mean this,” Viktor pulled a mushroom from his pocket. It was the kind a Smurf would live in, a red cap with white spots. “It takes our fear and gives us rage.”

“Wait, I heard about this,” Cedric said. “You’re a berserker?”

“Yes. I trained for years to control my battle rage before earning my title. Only the best may-”

“Is that what happened to the girl?” Harry interrupted. “She jumped me and then had some kind of fit when I pushed her into the water.”

Viktor sighed. “Vera. She is the youngest berserker. It takes a while to get adjusted to it. I cried for an hour my first time.”

“Oooookaaay then…” said Harry. He hoped he would never visit Camp Valhalla. “Fleur, what was that stuff you did?”

“Oh, just a simple healing spell. I transfered a bit of energy from myself to you.” she explained casually.

“Wait, you can just… do that?” Harry asked, befuddled.

“Well, with the proper spell and concentration, yes. My goddess specializes in healing, so I am very good at it.”

“Wow, cool. What’d you use for this trial, Diggory?”

“Well, uh, I didn’t use anything,” Cedrc said bashfully. “I didn’t really have any cool things, besides my sword. I had a brief duel once, but other than that-”

“You came in second with no conflict whatsoever?” Fleur said, impressed.

“Well, that one guy almost-”

“Nonsense,” said Viktor with a smirk. “You hit him in the face with your blade and sent him into the river two seconds into the fight,” He clapped Cedric on the shoulder. “You are too humble. Take pride in what you do, my friend.”

“Yeah, and you sprinted over here with your basket!” Fleur added. “Not even Vikor did that, and he’s obviously the strongest person here!”   
“I am strong, but not very fast.” Viktor said, shrugging. “I still came in first.”

They argued over who was a better fighter for a couple more minutes as the majority of the students came back and handed off their baskets. When the faculty noticed that most of them were back, they quickly finished up counting and began to get ready to reveal who came in first place.

“Ok, younglings,”Mr. Black began, “we have our official winners, and of course our. . . honorary member’s score. Drumroll please!” Out of nowhere, a sound similar to a snare drum began to rumble, with many of the students looking around, even the other bases’ people.

“Our third place is. . . Fleur Delacour!” Many students from the House of Life started to cheer, even the ones who looked initially disappointed. They all were like that of one big family, so they naturally congratulated her, pushing aside their own feelings to acknowledge the blonde’s superiority in this challenge.

Once the applause died down, Mr. Black spoke again. “Our second place is our very own. . . Cedric Diggory!” The Greeks all yelled loudly, slapping the handsome boy on the back, nearly pushing him over in their excitement. They all liked him since he was a genuinely nice bloke, and seemed alright about having an Aphrodite beating them all. 

The black haired teacher brought his index finger to his lips in a shushing manner, commanding respect over the crowd and quieting them. “Our final winner is someone from Camp Valhalla, and has used his power to his advantage. And he. . . is. . . Viktor Krum!” Immediately the Norse started jumping up and down, shouting, and many began to even wrestle with the other winner. Their form of celebrating was rather loud and rambunctious, but anyone with eyes could see how happy they all were, with the exception of some members. 

His final announcement came after a good ten minutes of trying to get Camp Valhalla to calm down and stop fighting with each other, while the other camps looked on in fascination and slight horror. 

“Ok, ok, now that everyone is settled,” he said as he leveled a glare at some of the worst instigators, “I believe it is time to announce Mr. Evan’s score, and to see how he kept up with his peers.” He chatted quickly with the other counselors, looked incredibly surprised, and continued with his announcement, “This is very exciting! Our Mr. Evans came in fourth place amongst the Greeks, and eleventh overall!” The others looked stunned, and while some cheered for him, most were in a shocked silence. “His total time was one hour, forty two minutes, and fifty seven seconds, which is in part because he went above and beyond and gathered one hundred and six of our special strawberries, with no regular outliers.”

Most of the Greeks came up and said their congratulations, but the air was so thick with tension you could cut it like a slice of cheese and eat it. Then, out of the forest, something lumbered out. It was a small speck at first that no one except for Mr. Lupin noticed, but grew into a larger being, a boy, who was running like a maniac, a wild gleam in his eyes that made every hair on his body stand up. It was such an uncomfortable scene, the pure insanity he saw in the boy’s face. Alerting the others to be wary, he turned to the boy, pushing between the other teens in a protective stance, while the other leaders rose to meet him. Mr. Black took that as a cue to usher everyone back to their cabins to get ready for dinner, telling them to stay in there until given the all clear by their leader. 

The boy pulled a knife, darting forward towards Harry, started to scream and foam up a bit at the mouth. He was caught almost immediately by the other faculty, but still put up a fight, screaming expletives and threats of death. Harry couldn’t see too much as Mr. Black almost dragged him off, but he could see the other’s veins, bulging and a deep red, so dark they looked almost black, and suddenly knew how dangerous it was to be a berserker.

He ran off, scared, and noticeably more tired, deciding to use this time for a well deserved nap. He snuck into his cabin, kept the lights off, and slid into his bunk. That’s quite enough adventure for one day.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Remus had automatically seen Harry when he came in, took a mental note of the bruising around his neck that was such a violent red, whatever he suffered from his remaining family paled in comparison. He was deeply unsettled by this, trying to look away and focus on counting his strawberries, but often found his eyes drifting back to the fourteen year old. 

He saw the French girl from the House of Life, Fleur as she was called, cast some sort of spell that seemed to heal him internally, if his sudden boost of energy was anything to go by, but his bruises barely lightened up, turning a more purple yellow color that showed they had healed up a bit, somewhat. 

But then, after the announcements came, a boy that looked about the age of seventeen stepped out of the forest. He saw the movements before anyone else, his heightened senses giving him that benefit. He saw him approach nearer and nearer, and tapped out a message in Morse code on Sirius’ hand, telling him to get the children back to their cabins when the rest of the elders stepped forward to shield them.

He did alert the others, of course, and didn’t let himself be distracted by the campers, letting the boy draw in all his attention. He did catch him, and Remus was so glad, because it wasn’t the boy’s appearance that frightened him so (although that had been a factor into his unsettling feelings), but the way he was yelling at Harry. 

He was screaming curses, and death threats, and seemed to reference something that happened along the run, and noticing the way Harry’s hands subconsciously went to his throat, his suspicions were confirmed that he was the cause of the younger’s injuries, or at least the more life threatening ones. He let the boy be handled to Helgi, not caring of what may happen to the boy, just going off on autopilot. He saw that Sirius had returned and walked off to The Big House. Ignoring his lover, he walked straight up the stairs and into their room. He let Sirius follow and shut the door, before swirling around and letting go.

He clutched at his lover’s shirt, his knees buckling, and Sirius had to balance him out so he didn’t completely fall and hurt himself. Sobbing and silently screaming, he buried his face into his chest, letting himself be slightly manhandled into a better position, before Sirius had to draw himself away to calm the other down.

“I. . . I can’t. . .” Remus seemed to start, then stop hiswords, hiccuping along the way. Sirius just shushed him, whispering at him to concentrate on his breathing and to let it match his own. 

He was hyperventilating, panicking about while Sirius did his best to help calm him down, even though he knew it would be awhile before Remus would be able to make coherent sentences. 

It went on for a good half hour, during which he could hear the others being let out to eat. After, Remus was still breathing rather heavily and crying, but had been silent for a few minutes before trying to speak again.

“I can’t. . . I can’t protect them all.”

“Moony, darling, what do you mean?”

“You saw Harry, his neck was a wreck, and that boy. . . he. . . he did that to him. And that was a potential teammate. If I can’t. . . if we can’t protect him from his own peers, how can we even ensure he will come back from this quest in one piece, much less alive?”

Sirius was quiet for a moment, pondering over what to say to calm Remus’ nerves.

“They’re going to be alright, the gods wouldn’t curse any child of that age that badly. And whoever he’ll be paired with will look after him. And it won't be that boy, don’t worry too much about  _ that. _ ” He snorted a bit at his last comment. When Remus didn’t speak again, he continued on.

“They’re going to be ok, love, we might not be able to protect them forever, but they  _ will _ protect each other. He'll have some responsible lads and lassies to watch out for him, and they’re all going to come back home. Trust me.”

Remus was still unsure, but let himself believe in it, even for just this moment. 

)-(

It had been a few days since the second trial. The excitement and thrill of such a high position still lingered in Harry, but it was mostly hidden away behind his cool, relaxed demeanor. To him, it had felt like he did all he needed to do, and for now he was done. 

At the moment, he was eating lunch with his group of friends. They had, unfortunately, moved on from congratulating Harry on his performance in the second trial to his plans for the third trial. He had no clue, and honestly he didn’t care about what the next trial held. He figured he should just be happy he survived the last one. He just wanted to relax, since he still felt a little tired, even after all those days of rest, and his neck was quite sore, though the bruises were now barely visible.

His friends, namely Hermione, kept asking what he was doing to prepare, what he thought the next trial was, blah blah blah. Why did they have to keep nagging him? The trial was days away! He’d have time to prepare. Especially since it was lunch right now. Did they have to bring this up when Harry just wanted to eat?

He had just take a bite out of his delicious BLT sandwich when Hermione asked his current least favorite question, 

“So Harry, what do you think the next trial will be?” It wasn’t so much the question that was annoying, it was what came after that was really irritating.

“I duh nuh,” Harry said, swallowing his mouthful of sandwich. “I reckon something dangerous.”

“Mm hm,” Hermione looked disappointed. “Well, any idea what things will make this trial dangerous?” She sounded like she was talking to a baby. Harry was getting ticked off.

“I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” Harry quipped back with a bite in his tone. “Aren’t you supposed to have this all figured out by now?”

Hermione took a deep breath and looked very angry. “No, I’m not in the trials. It's not my job to give you all the answers. I’m supposed to-”

“Help me out, right?” Harry interrupted. Ron and Draco slowly and quietly packed their bags, waiting for one of them to explode. “It's not nagging and lecturing when I say that I have no idea what’s going to happen, is it? Because I don’t know! How could I know?”   
“That’s not the point!” Hermione said, now standing and slamming her hands against the table. “You should care more about this! You should try to prepare anyway you can! Especially since you've been handpicked for this, are the youngest one, and have abso-fucking-lutely no idea what you’re doing!”

“I didn’t ask to be in this in the first place!” Harry rose from his seat too. “I barely made it through the trial and you want me to push myself even more?!”

“All the more reason! You need to train! In something, anything, or else you're going to die! You’re obviously the least skilled of the contenders, so you need every advantage you can get! With the way you’re acting, I’ll be surprised if you can even make it through the next trial!”

That hit Harry a little too close to home. “Then how the fuck did I make it through this one?! And in fourth place?! I’m just as good as-”

“Dumb luck!” Hermione yelled. “And the fact that everyone thought you were too weak to care about what you were doing!”

Everyone was blatantly staring at the duo, and while they had packed up, Ron and Draco were rooted deeply in their seats, too scared to draw attention to themselves, while Pansy and Blaise were betting on who would rip the other’s throat out first. It was hard to tell who would, since they both were rapidly approaching that breaking point.

“Dumb luck?” Harry seemed to whisper, his voice absolutely packed with fury. “All of this,” he gestured around him, “is dumb luck?”

Hermione, on her part, stood her ground. “Yes. Look at the facts: you were put into a prophecy at random, that fate decreed decades before you were born. Then for this quest, what happened? Oh, yeah, another prophecy! Honestly, it’s a miracle you didn’t die during the second trial.”

Her face shut down for a second, and when she looked back up, she had tears in her eyes that threatened to fall. 

“You almost died, Harry. That monster fought you and choked you, beat you worse than  _ they _ ever did. You were black and purple, not even black and blue. And how did you escape? Oh yes, tricks that you had stored away. That’s not going to get you through everything. You need to learn the basics of how to survive in the real world, and how to beat what can and will kill you, given the opportunity.”

It was silent for a minute, with Hermione barely holding back her tears and Harry’s jaw clenching and unclenching, unsure if he was going to scream at Hermione, or cry. 

Finally, he opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. “Don’t, I don’t want to hear it. Just. . . be safe. Please.” She walked off leaving the Pavilion in silence, before Ron got up and raced after her. 

Draco got up too, glaring at Harry. “Nice going, Evans.” He went off after the other two, practically storming off.

Harry buried his face into his hands, then got up too. As soon as no one could see him, he let the tears flow free.

)-(

It seemed that after that, Ron and Draco were avoiding Harry. Hermione had made up with Harry for the most part, as he was truly sorry for the way he acted, but Ron and Draco were a different story. Draco barely spoke a word to him at all, while Ron seemed to go out of his way to be passive aggressive, even hostile at some points. He seemed to blame Harry for the argument and completely took Hermione’s side. Harry didn’t blame him. He had acted like a selfish git. Of course it was his job to care about this, not Hermione’s. She was just trying to see if he was actually doing something about his situation. Then why was Ron so mad? He also pushed Harry to train, but he had no reason to be overly cross with him. Could it just be that he was Hermione’s good friend and he was standing up to her? Possibly.

It’s been about a week since his and Hermione’s fight, and he was feeling more lonely than ever. He kept his promise to the bushy haired girl and proceeded to train a bit by himself, but without his other two friends around, he was miserable. Ron seemed to stick to Hermione like glue, and he could never tell where Draco was besides when they were in class.

It was finally the weekend, about three days before the final trial, and they were eating lunch at their own pace for once in a long while. Harry had glanced up at an empty table and was a bit surprised to see it suddenly occupied. Cedric and Draco were eating at it, showing off some of their favourite foods. 

Trying to remain inconspicuous, Harry scooted a bit closer to hear what they were saying.

“You’ve seriously never tried haggis before? It’s delicious!” Cedric seemed to exclaim, the sausage looking thing cut up into bite sized pieces.

Draco chuckled. “No, can’t say I have, my father would never allow it.” Cedric brought up his fork with a piece of it on it. “Here, try it.” Draco opened his mouth and let Cedric feed him, groaning at how good it was. The older boy’s cheeks flushed up a bit, their faces only about five inches apart. When Draco opened his eyes, he turned beet red, also noticing their close proximity. 

This made Harry feel strange. He felt embarrassed, angry, and sad all at the same time. He didn’t know why, but he did know that this feeling seemed to flare up everytime he heard the two boys talking, laughing, even just being in the same general area together. He wanted to punch Diggory in his pretty face and knock those perfect teeth out. That was an odd feeling, especially since Cedric had never been anything but kind to him. How had he come to feel like this about Cedric?

No matter how strongly these feelings towards Cedric got, that couldn’t compare to what he felt about Draco. Every time he saw him, he felt a strange, powerful longing to be near him. He couldn’t explain why, but it was just something he needed like air. This feeling got worse whenever Cedric entered the picture. He felt like he had to take Draco away from Cedric. Then he got embarrassed and mentally kicked himself for thinking that. 

As he watched the pair share food, Harry felt that strange and powerful mix of emotions. They were talking and seemingly having a good time. Draco laughed at something Diggory just said. Harry felt butterflies in his stomach. The fish and chips he was eating suddenly didn’t seem so appetizing. Then Draco put a piece of his steak and kidney pie on his fork and held it in front of Diggory. Cedric smiled, leaned in, and took a bite from the fork. Harry’s fist curled into a fist, seemingly all on its own. Was it just him, or did Cedric and Draco seem much closer now? Their faces were almost touching when Draco fork-fed Cedric. Why was he so concerned about that? Harry fiddled with his fork, trying to distract himself. He spun it with his fingers. What made the two so happy together? The fork spun faster. Why was Pretty Boy so annoying? The fork spun incredibly fast now, blurring like a humming bird’s wings. Why couldn’t he-

_ CLANG! _

__ Harry’s fork flew from his hand, into the air, and right in front of the table Cedric and Draco sat at. The Dining Pavillion got a little quieter as people heard the last echoes of the clattering fork. With his face beet red, Harry quickly walked over to the table, bent down, and grabbed the fork. As he rose, he met Draco’s eyes. Such nice gray eyes….

Cedric was saying something, but Harry couldn’t distinguish quite what. The best Harry could do was give a weak smile, nod rapidly, and fast walk back to his table, where he was greeted by a confused Ron and a smirking Hermione.

“Are you good, mate?” Ron asked cautiously.

“What?” Harry wasn’t fully focused yet. “Oh yeah, no, I’m good.”

Ron gave him one last funny look before going back to his beef stew. Hermione, on the other hand, looked like she was about to laugh at him.

Harry looked at her questioningly. She stifled a chuckle. Harry raised his hands in an annoyed-confused kind of war. Hermione, still holding back laughter, shook her head and looked down to her lap where her book was. A few minutes passed and Harry had no idea what was up with Hermione.

“What?” Harry said in frustration. This was getting a little annoying.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said, then started giggling quietly, covering her mouth with her sleeve. 

She never did tell him later. She must have forgotten or something, because she wasn’t laughing like a lunatic when she saw him anymore. She definitely remembered what happened at lunch (who could forget? He looked like a doofus in front of everyone!) but she didn’t bring it up during their afternoon classes.

And it was of course the same day, just at dinner this time, where the strange feeling in Harry’s chest rose up again. 

They were sitting close again, now with them a bit closer to the table that Harry, Hermione, and a begrudging Ron sat, silently eating due to the awkward tension between the two boys. Cedric and Draco were close, their bodies angled towards each other and their heads slightly bowed, blocking out the others, and somehow not noticing the burning stare Harry gave them. 

He couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly, but he could hear their voices this time, hushed with jokes and quiet laughs and soft looks being exchanged. At one point, Cedric said something that must’ve been very funny, because Draco started to crack up a bit, his nose scrunched and his head bowing even further. His grin was wide and his eyes were closed.

The way Cedric stared at him was similar to that of when they all saw the school for the first time: pure amazement and awe. His face had lost a bit of the grin as he looked on at the younger boy, slightly slack jawed and his eyes twinkling. When Draco glanced up, his laughter finally dying down, he caught the other’s eye. He just grinned back, both staring at one another, like they were in their own lost world, where no one could disturb them. It was a pure, intimate moment that they may have not noticed, but anyone else looking at them did. 

And Harry didn’t know why, but it felt like a monster was rising up, clawing at him. It was more intense than it was at lunch, and suddenly he was irrationally angry. Scoffing, he stood up with a bit more force than intended and stormed out. He needed to clear his head. Maybe once he did, he would understand what was so great about bloody Cedric Diggory.

)-(

Harry walked around in the strawberry fields. Since it was still dinner time, he was completely alone. He loved the fields, they’re always so peaceful, a great place to relax, even when others were around. For some reason, though, it was a bit harder to relax today. Harry was still quite… upset? Emotional? Cranky? He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he didn’t like it. Stupid pretty boy Diggory, why was he so annoying?  _ No, seriously, why do I find him annoying? _ Harry asked himself. He couldn’t answer that question, but thinking of that bloke made him mad. Harry stomped on a small clump of unripe strawberries to let his anger out.

It was strange to him, he had never thought of Diggory like that before, in fact, even the day before, he was such a nice guy to Harry. He had felt like he made another friend, so why did he suddenly take a turn?

Before he could even figure out his train of thought, his rampage upon the strawberries was cut short by the tall blonde boy that he had been thinking about a couple minutes ago.

“Harry, there you are!” Harry smiled. All thoughts of Cedric vanished almost immediately. “Are you okay? You seemed really upset earlier” Draco said with concern.

“I, uh-yeah, I’m good,” Harry stammered out.  _ What was that? What’s wrong with me?  _ He thought to himself. He was acting weird for no reason.

“Uh, okay,” Draco said, “Anything you want to talk about?” Draco stepped a bit closer to Harry. Harry had never noticed that Draco’s gray eyes had tiny blue flecks in them. Such pretty eyes….

“Harry?”

“Huh, what?” Harry snapped out of the trance he didn’t know he was in. Was he staring?

“I just asked if you wanted to talk about anything,” Draco said with a bit of concern. Harry shrugged and said nothing. “Okay then. Then wanna come and train with me?”

“Why do you even care?” Harry suddenly snapped. It caught Draco off guard at the venom flowing the other boy’s words.

“What do you mea-”

“You’ve been ignoring me for a good bit now, hanging all around you’re new friends, but now, for some reason, you actually care about me?” He scoffed, giving a look that Draco would’ve been proud of if not directed at him.

“I just don’t get it so please, explain it to me.”

Draco sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “Look, it was back when you and Granger had the whole fight. You were so. . . so. . . disregarding of your own life.” He rubs his arms, shrinking in slightly. “It brought some stuff to perspective.”

Never the one to have tact, Harry asked petulantly, “What stuff?”

“That you might actually die, you bloody idiot!” Draco exclaimed. Harry was shocked, and a bit confused.

“But why would I die?”

“Well, how about the crazy trials where people rip each other to pieces to cross the finish line? Don’t think I overlooked the bruises on your neck. Then the actual quest, where you’re the youngest, smallest, and least trained person there. Not to mention possibly facing an enemy who stole a god’s weapon. You’re right, I’m definitely overreacting. There is no way you could possibly die!” Draco kicked the small pile of green and red mush Harry made when he stomped the berries. He sighed and looked calmer. “Look, the point is, I care about you, and I want to make sure you’re okay. Whether that’s in the trials, with preparing for the quest, just with problems in general, if I can help you I will.”

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach. Draco was a good friend. His heart raced, especially when Draco put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. Harry thought this was a little intense, and he felt himself blush. Draco must have felt it, too, because he blushed lightly and took his hand off Harry’s shoulder.

“Do you want to go train?” Harry asked.

An olive branch.

“Yes.”

)-(

Since it was still dinner time, Harry and Draco were the only ones in or around the sword fighting arena. They both quietly walked in and took a moment to look around. It was empty, quiet, but still alive with energy, as if the place was pumping them up for their training.

Picking up a cutlass, Draco prompted Harry to do the same. 

“Ok, I’m going to help you today, since sword fighting is not quite your style.” He looked a bit distastefully at the other. “But, it will help when you run out of your tricks and need to do some real fighting.”

Harry glared at the other boy. “My tricks are real fighting, they just don’t cause as much damage.”

“Yes, well, there are times when you  _ need _ to cause lasting damage, understand that. When it comes down between life and death, you strike with everything you’ve got, and that includes the very real possibility of killing your opponent.”

Draco’s demeanor had become a bit colder, as if instructing a child, but he did his best to remain friendly, even though the thought of Harry dying made his whole body tense.

“Right then, what do you have for me, Professor Malfoy?” he asked cheekily. 

“A simple fight, in which afterwards we will go over what you did incorrectly. No powers, no  _ tricks _ ,” he looked very pointedly at Harry, “just a good old fashioned fight.”

The darker haired one shrugged. “Alright then.” He got into a rather good stance. “Show me what you’ve got, Professor.”

Surprising Harry, all the warning he received was a quick smirk. Lunging quickly, Draco struck, Harry barely deflecting out of his shock. The blonde seemed to dance about, circling prey as if he were a wildcat, with Harry trying to follow his movements. He was lithe and limber, his movements quick and rapid.

Harry on the other hand, recovered from his momentary lapse in brain function, and got back into a good stance, trying to copy Draco’s, but was unable to. The blonde was a good deal more flexible, and always had some part of his body contorted like an elastic band. 

Finding a weak spot in one of the other’s circles, Harry made a move to the other’s less dominant leg, managing to startle Draco. He quickly jerked back, whipping his head up to stare at the other. The raven just grinned, and made another attack for the torso, not getting anywhere close on this strike. He attempted a couple more times, focusing in too much on one spot, making it extremely obvious of his train of thought.

“Good gods, you’re worse than I thought.” Draco then yawned, looking bored. With a furious rage coursing in, Harry let out a stream of wide attacks, swinging his sword wildly, a blind man to his own faults in his style. He just couldn’t focus for some reason. Harry blamed Draco for being distracting, which he knew was a strange thought.

Noticing that the other had relinquished his attacks, the blonde took over in the fight, moving from the defensive to the offensive. 

It was a flurry of twirls and spins, jabs and stabs, swings and parrying that would make any normal person’s head spin, and was nearly making Harry’s too. He wasn’t able to keep up with it all, and when he finally was able to take a breath, he noticed how close the other was to him, barely three inches from him.

_ Gods, his mouth is so pretty  _ he found himself thinking, before catching himself and turning pomegranate red. 

Draco looked at him confusedly.

“Evans, darling, I won. You can pick your jaw off the floor now please. We have another round to go.”

“Er, what?”

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? My sword is right at the back of your knees, in which lies a particularly vital artery that when pricked, will cause you to bleed out extremely fast. It may take a bit more for ourselves, but it is a still important place to guard.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry replied, still embarrassed. “Let’s just go again.”

“Try not to drop your guard next time,” Draco said with a smirk as he patted Harry’s head with the flat of his blade. Harry looked very annoyed but even more flustered.

Harry snorted in frustration and got into his dueling stance, his sword clasped in front of him in a defensive manner. Whatever weird curse or trick Draco was using to get Harry distracted was really strong, so he’d have to make sure he was on guard this time. 

“Ready?” Draco asks. Harry nods and aims a stab at Draco’s arm.

Right when the blade should have hit him, Draco spun and knocked Harry’s blade aside and almost out of his hand. He fought like a dancer; smooth, graceful, and strong. His fighting style was mesmerizing. To Harry it felt like Draco was dancing with him, not fighting him. It was impossible to look away, what with his graceful steps, his determined smile, the way the sweat dripped off his neck….  _ Wait, what?  _ Harry thought. Before he could put together a coherent thought, his own swing towards Draco’s face was met with a parry and a thrust, which sent Harry’s sword flying across the arena. Draco spun and wrapped his arm around Harry’s neck and his sword under Harry’s chin. This round was over.

While Draco smirked, Harry froze. He wasn’t scared or embarrassed that he lost, but flustered at the intimacy of Draco’s finishing move. Not to mention how close their faces were.

Laughing, Draco stepped away from the blushing boy, as ignorant as ever.

“What’s got your head in a tizzy?”

The word choice snapped Harry out of his reverie. “Tizzy?” He snorted. “Bit of strong language there, grandpa.”

Giving him a withering glanced, Draco stepped away to grab a couple daggers, one Harry and himself each.

“First Professor, now grandpa. I wonder, Evans, if you’re ever going to tell a compelling story.” On the last word, he launched one of the daggers at him, Harry barely being able to duck, before staring incredulously at the blonde. He didn’t have much time to be offended at the complete surprise of an attack, for he saw Draco only a couple feet away, already moving in quick to stab at him. 

Harry blocked and counterstruck, finally getting some hold of his thoughts, enough to create a sense of presence within himself. He struck back, moving forward, catching the ballerina off guard, and forcing him onto his toes. Literally.

Falling over, Draco was able to stay on his toes by bending at the knees and leaning back on his right hand, his left still carrying his cutlass. The strike went over his body, but stil sent shivers down his spine. The look on the raven’s face was pure determination.

Getting back on track, there was an offensive move he could use, and saw the perfect opportunity to do just that. 

He kicked out his left leg, twisting his weight over to the right side of his body completely. During the twist, he used his free leg to extend and wrap around Harry’s sword arm, using the bend of his knee to bring the other boy down. Using the momentum, Draco drew himself upright and had his sword under Harry’s chin, which was now becoming a signature move for him.

“I win. Again,” he stated. 

Offering his hand, he said, “At least you were more formidable this time.”

Harry takes Draco’s hand and gets up. He has a new determined look in his eyes now.

“Alright, Draco, I’m not gonna let you win anymore,”

“Ha, good, I was getting bored,” Draco replied with a smirk. Harry blushed and pouted. 

“Aw, poor baby, you ready to take this seriously?” Draco said with an evil grin. Harry charged and swung. If Draco hadn’t been prepared for that blow, he probably would’ve lost his arm. Harry was quick to recover, though, and countered with a spin, trying to copy Draco’s fighting style once more, and to gain a vantage point to the back of the knees. He fell a bit off balanced, a side step no one but himself and Draco would’ve noticed, and Draco noticed. He used that to to dve to the other side of Harry’s body, ducking down low and swinging his leg out, knocking Harry off his feet. 

When he got up, he laughed and started to walk away from the quickly angering boy. The raven stood and charged at the other, knocking his sword out of his hand before tackling him to the ground. It was a quick wrestle, with Harry being careful to not purposefully cut Draco (anywhere important, that is, he was still a bit mad), in which it ended with Harry straddling Draco with his sword to the blonde’s throat. 

He huffed out a laugh of pure enjoyment, soaking up in the fact that he won. It soon died down after he noticed that absolutely  _ feral _ grin that Draco had on his face. 

“What. What is it?” he asked, before feeling something poke up along the center-left of his spine, closer to the middle of his shoulder blades. He finally noticed that Draco’s arm was around him in a half embrace, with a dagger to his back.

His smile widening, Draco explained, “Well you see, while it would be unfortunate to have my throat sliced open, I could recover from that, albeit not very nicely. But you, on the other hand, have a dagger that is prepared to slice through your spinal cord and pierce your heart, all in one simple push.  _ That _ is something you can’t recover from, not even with our sped up healing abilities.”

“I, uh, mm, no-” Harry was both scared and strangely intrigued. He knew that was not a good feeling to have when someone explains how to kill you in detail, but he felt it anyway.

“Woah, are you alright?” Draco asked, lowering the knife. “You know I’m not actually going to kill you, right?”

“Uh yeah,” Harry laughed awkwardly. Draco gives a light chuckle.

“Um. . .” Harry’s voice trailed off, and both boys finally noticed how close they were. Harry was once again staring at Draco's lips, and Draco was looking back, though his own eyes seemed to flash between the other’s emerald’s and his lips.

Harry, ever so slightly, leaned in, barely moving a inch.

Draco sat up a bit, he himself moving closer.

Two breaths, each from a different boy.

And then-


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Something caught Draco’s eye, just in the peripheral. It was a little ways behind the other boy, glinting gold and red. 

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning back enough so he could point it out.

Confused, Harry turned around, and saw what Draco was talking about. A beautiful but simple gold bracelet, with what looked like a six petaled red flower, but up close, were pomegranate seeds.

“Oh that. That’s my bracelet.”

He went to retrieve it, then slid back on the floor next to the blonde. He was excitedly showing it to him, but after a good few moments of silence, looked up. Draco’s face was the most pallid shade that his skin could ever turn.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice slightly trembling.

Scratching his head, Harry thought back to the blonde’s little duel with Ron, where he noticed it on the floor. He told Draco as much, with a questioning tone.

His voice took a cold turn, as frosty as the winters up in Russia could be, and he spoke slowly, dragging out each word.

“And you didn’t think that the bracelet could belong to the only child of Persephone, whose mark is of pomegranate seeds? You didn’t think to ask someone who it might belong to?”

He started to raise his voice. “You didn’t think that the owner, whoever it may be, was looking high and low for it, because it was the only gift he received from his birth mother?! You just-” His voice broke off, as tears started to seize his throat. 

Harry was stricken. “I’m. . . I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I-” he stammered before he was cut off.

“Exactly, you didn’t think! You never do!”

“Draco, I-”

“Draco!”

The blonde’s head shot up, then his whole body moved. He heard a very familiar voice, one that just happened to belong to a very handsome 17 year old boy. Draco turned away from Harry like he wasn’t there and walked towards Diggory.

“Oh, Harry’s here too,” Cedric said to no one in particular. “Hi Harry!” He put on that winning smile that usually filled people with joy, but not Harry. At least, not recently. The sight of the bloke interrupting and having the audacity to smile about it filled him with rage.

Not being able to help himself, he sprang up and shoved past the pair, angrily muttering, “Every time,” under his breath. He left the bracelet where it was on the floor, happy to let it go. The other two just watched him walk away, both confused, but one with a layer of anger.

“What was his deal?” Cedric asked.

“I don’t know, he’s been… off for a while,” Draco replied nonchalantly.

Cedric said something else, _probably something stupid,_ Harry thought, but he had speed walked too far away to hear. Then he just kept walking. He walked past the volleyball nets, past the cabins, past the Big House, and finally to the edge of the forest. While he was walking, he thought. He thought about what almost happened before Diggory showed up. He thought about wanting to annihilate Cedric. He thought a lot about his sparring session with Draco. Not necessarily about what they did during the duels but about his sparring partner. No matter how weird he thought this was, he couldn’t take his mind off of Draco. The way his eyes shined, the way he moved when he fought, he slim but muscular physique. 

_Hang on, hang on,_ Harry thought. _What am I thinking? Why am I stalking him? He’s my friend, I shouldn’t act or think creepy around him._ Harry kept feeling a desire to be close to Draco. He got sad whenever his embarrassment prohibited him from doing so, and embarrassed and angry at himself whenever he did. It was a horrible feeling, but he didn’t want it to stop.

He stomped off to his cabin and laid down. _It’s just so I’ll be well rested for tomorrow. That’s all_. 

As he drifted off, his thoughts were filled with shiny blonde hair, sparkling grey eyes that could rival Athena’s, and plush, pink lips.

)-(

Cedric looked at the angry form of the black haired boy. 

“Are you sure he’s alright? I mean, did I interrupt something?”

Draco's face flushed as he started to wave his arms in front of his face as a negative response. “No! We had just finished practicing for tomorrow. I’m just. . . a bit worried about him, you know?” He shrugged and sighed. “He doesn’t seem to take this seriously - his _life_ seriously.” _It’s not like I’m lying,_ he told himself.

“Yeah, he seems a bit careless, but you’re sure I wasn’t bothering you two? He kinda stormed off once I walked in,” Cedric said, nervously playing with his hands.

“No, I’m sure he just got nervous and didn’t want to bother us,” Draco said, knowing that Harry really was mad. “He’s a little awkward, that’s all.”

Cedric chuckled a bit. “Yeah, he can be, from what I know of him.”

There was a small awkward silence, with both boys wanting to fill it but not being sure of how to go about it. But soon it faded away, and they smiled at each other, the tension dissipating. 

They took a seat against the wall of the Arena, Draco’s shoulder resting next to Cedric.

“I want to tell you something.” Draco said quietly, hesitant to break the contentment of the moment. They shifted a bit, leaving just enough of their bodies touching for Draco’s head to remain on the other boy’s shoulder. “I know that you were told by Mr. Lupin to watch me, but I’m fairly confident that you won’t tell him anything I wouldn’t want him to know. But, before you leave, I do want you to know something about me. I. . . I’ve only told Riddle before.”

There was a beat, then-

“My father hits me.”

Boy of them took a breath. It was there out in the open, finally, but now, the blonde didn’t feel pressured to say it.

“He had an affair with Persephone while my mother was pregnant, and I ended up on his doorstep shortly after. I think. . .” Draco paused. “I think he knew who my mother was, he seemed to automatically know how to send me to school as soon as he could, and mother said that there wasn’t a letter on how to do it.”

Cedric remained silent.

“Anyway, he. . . he likes to do it where no one would see it, most of the time, he used his hands. But mother finally left him about a year and a half ago, and he started to use a belt. Always told me if I didn’t my sisters would get it worse.”

He looked up at the older boy with watery eyes. “Is it sick that I still love him? He’s my father, he should love me!” His voice cracked as tears started to stream down his face.

“It was his mistake, so why does he hate me so much? Why do I still love him? I want it all to stop, I’ve _prayed_ to make it stop! If my mother loved me like she said, why did she leave me with him?! If Persephone is the kindest goddess of all, why did she never make him love me, or. . . or why didn’t she take me?! WHY DO I STILL LOVE HIM?!”

Draco’s sobs were racking through his body as Cedric held him tight. He shushed him soothingly, pressing feather soft kisses into his hair and rubbing his back. As he broke down further into his arms, Cedric realized that he might have never actually dealt with his feelings of his father in this way. Yes he might have told Riddle about the abuse, but possibly not his own feelings about his father, if you could even call this man a father at this point.

But as he held the other, Cedric came to a definite conclusion, that honestly he should’ve seen coming. He was falling for the blonde, and fast. Not in love, but it could be that, with time. He shook it out of his head for the moment. It could wait until morning, or never if Draco wasn’t comfortable with it.

Before he could speak, though, he noticed that Draco had gone quiet. He looked down, and saw the boy had fallen asleep. Smiling softly, he adjusted their positions to where they would be more comfortable, and drifted off himself.

)-(

When Draco woke up, he had a cold nose, a stiff back that needed to be cracked, and an arm that had fallen asleep. 

He looked around a bit, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before attempting to stand up. He discovered he couldn’t, and looked down. On his thighs lay the head of one extremely beautiful boy, light brown hair dusting across his face and his bottom lip pushed out slightly in a pout. 

Draco smiled, taking peace in the utterly content look upon Cedric’s face, and began to stroke his hair absentmindedly.

It took around another ten minutes for the older boy to wake up, and when he did, he was treated to a soft looking Draco gazing down on him. They held the stare for a bit, both basking in the glow of the morning sunlight that was streaming into the Arena. 

The warm moment was broken by the eventual need to stretch, lest their joints fuse together.

“Draco, about yesterday. . .” Cedric began. Draco’s cheeks turned a deep color of embarrassment, and he started to get up and walk away, before Cedric grabbed his wrist.

“Wait ,just. . . just sit, it’s my turn to talk.”

The blonde settled in next to him, a bit further away than the night before, though. 

“Look, I don’t know how to respond to what you told me. It’s not my place, because feelings aren’t rational all the time, and for me to offer what my feelings towards the matter are saying, it just wouldn’t be right.”

Draco nodded at that, just wanting to escape the memory of him literally crying himself to sleep.

“That being said, feelings are sometimes a bit. . . bothersome.” Cedric was now looking away, a brilliant pink spreading across his nose and cheeks.

“Last night, some. . . things. . . were brought to light to me. But I don’t want them to ruin anything,” he rushed out, barely taking a breath to continue. “Draco, I like what we have now, but I want them to be,” he finally looked back at the blonde, who was shocked, but had a distinctly hopeful expression, “more.”

“Cedric, I,” he paused, a dreamy and relieved smile spreading across his face, “I feel the same way.”

Cedric sighed. “You know I can’t give you what you might want, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sex, Draco. I can do with affection and kisses, but I can’t. . . do stuff, I don’t want to. Ever.” Draco looked at him fondly and cradled his cheek. “And I’m alright with that. I don’t need to have sex, hell, the thought repulses me right now. But a life without sex, I can do that.” He ginned shyly. “You’re worth it. You’re worth everything, and you deserve everything.”

Cedric stared at him with something akin to awe, giddiness, and love. They both looked deeply into each other’s eyes, communicating their feelings silently, searching each other for any apprehension, and settling back into what felt like a golden aura surrounding them. 

Cedric began to lean in, as did Draco. They both moved slowly, always giving time for the other to back out at any moment, but neither doing that. Their noses brushed against each other, both eyes now looking at lips, their smiles now dropped and mouths parted, completely in the moment. Their lips were barely brushing, touching, but not quite there, when a horn was suddenly ringing through the school.

They both looked away, expressions filled with disappointment. 

“Draco, I’m so sorry, I have to go,” Cedric began, his eyes pleading for the blonde to understand.

He gave a soft smile. “It’s not your fault. Go, I’ll meet up with you before the trial begins, I think the younger ages are able to watch this one.”

Cedric gave out a sigh of relief, and gathered the other into a tight hug.

“Thank you. I promise we _will_ continue with this.”

He gave a lasting kiss to Draco’s knuckles, before jogging away, trying not to get in trouble with not being in his cabin. The blonde just watched him go, a dopey expression upon his face.

After around five minutes, he gathered his wits and grabbed the bracelet, slipping it on, tightening it with his powers; it was something only Persephone children could do due to the enchantments Persephone placed upon the jewelry she gave them.

He walked out, getting ready to watch the final trial, and excited to see Cedric.

  
  


)-(

Cedric was practically dancing on his way over to the other teens. He was giddy, and knew this was something important. Something big for him. He had never thought that Draco would like him back, but he did! And didn’t mind he was asexual! He was excited and couldn’t wait to see him again.

Until he got to the tables.

Everyone’s faces were grim, and he remembered that this was going to be the most dangerous of tasks. No one knew yet, but the smell of dread compounded the Mess Hall, and brought down his good mood rapidly. Even Mr. Black was solemn. 

He quickly sat down next to Fleur, who had saved him a seat since he was the last one who needed to join. 

“Okay, children, it’s time for your last trial. After this, we will be announcing who the other three of you will go.”

Mr. Black looked over them, before continuing.

“This one will be especially dangerous. As you know, we have no shortages of beasts and creatures in our forest. We will be adding to that, a few more that belong to the Greeks, and a good amount from the Egyptian and Norse ‘myths’.” He put quotation fingers when saying myths. “So your trial for today is to go into the woods and upon the first creature you find, you will kill it.” 

The contesters all looked at each other and shrugged, for it seemed simple enough, albeit a bit dangerous. 

“Here’s the catch,” Mr. Black interrupted. “You will not be able to kill any from your own ‘myth’. For example,” he stood a bit straighter, and pointed to one from Camp Valhalla, “she will not be able to kill a bilgesnipe, nor will he,” he pointed to and Ares kid, “be able to kill a minotaur.” All their faces paled.

“Now obviously, if they are about to kill you, please do kill them, but if you kill one of your own, it will not count.”

The statement did little to calm them, especially Harry and Cedric. Harry because he finally realized how much danger he was actually in, and Cedric because he wanted to live long enough to go on a date with Draco. 

“So, we will give you time to think about it and talk amongst yourselves, but please be to the woods in about a half hour.

)-(

Draco was walking up to the edge of the forest, where everyone was gathered. They all were talking excitedly amongst themselves. He looked around for Pansy or Blaise, but saw Ron gesture him over to a less populated area. 

“Weasley.”

“Malfoy.”

Both boys grinned, before Ron’s sobered.

“Look, I’ve got something to tell you. It’s about the trial.”

“Okay. . . tell me.”

Ron took a deep breath, and started speaking. “So, the whole thing is going to be them killing a beast in the woods, which is bad enough, right?” Draco nodded. “Well, the kicker is that they can’t kill one they’re familiar with, like at all. I know they said something else, but the spell Hermione got me started to wear off, so I couldn’t hear anything else.”

Draco suddenly felt sick to his stomach. “Wh. . . why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with me?”

Ron gave him a deadpan stare. “I saw you and Diggory sleeping in the Arena. And I’m pretty sure both of you confessed either that night or this morning, by how happy you were coming out of there. So I’m just saying, you might want to give him a proper goodbye, because he might not survive.”

)-(

Cedric walked down with Viktor and Fleur, Harry hung a bit behind, staying close with Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black. None of them talked, the only noise came from the younger years who were already there to watch. 

He scanned, looking for the bright blonde hair, but found him talking to one of the redheads. He couldn’t see which Weasley brother it was, but they seemed to be telling him something important. Cedric just hoped to see him before the event began. 

“You know,” Fleur started to say, “I hope it’s both of you.” Her voice was quiet, and her already heavy accent became even thicker with the emotion she was letting through. “You two would be. . . the most preferable.” Both boys smirked, and the three of them stopped and hugged. It was small, just a goodluck, don’t die hug, but they all knew how important that moment was for them.

When they separated, Fleur took Cedric aside.

“I’ve already talked to Viktor, and he knows how to kill our creatures along with yours. Do you know how to kill his and mine?”

Cedric looked sheepish when he replied no, but the French girl looked like she already expected that.

“Here,” she said as she handed him an amulet. It was more of a small necklace, except for the fact that it was too small to fit over his head and too big to fit around his wrist. 

“Wrap it around your weapons until it won’t come loose. I put a protection charm on it, so it will at least keep you safer than most. With the creatures, use your weapon for the Norse ones, but ours are a bit different. They’re more designed for magic, so you’re going to have to use your brain if you come across one. That is all the help I can offer you.”

She then strode off to get ready herself, and left Cedric standing there. Grabbing the daggers and sword he needed, he put on his armour and wrapped the amulet around the sword, letting the charm dangle a bit off the hilt.

It was finally a couple minutes before the start of the trial, and Cedric was a bit nervous that he hadn’t seen Draco, as silly as it was. Did he regret it? Was he suddenly turned off on the idea of dating someone who was asexual? Was he too old for him?

As he worried about, he didn’t catch the blonde boy stomping up with a glint of determination in his eyes.

He was suddenly spun around, and before he could react, he saw Draco grab the back of his neck and haul him down. His lips planted on Cedric, a bit rough, but not so that it hurt. He was surprised, not even registering it for the first few seconds, but when he did, it felt like magic sewing them together. Coming about himself, the older boy dragged the younger nearer by the waist,wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace, and deepened the kiss. It was an act of longing and wanting to be close to each other. The kiss was filled with desperation and something almost like love. It was chaste, but deeper than an ocean, with them not needed to go further to convey their feelings for one another. Cedric felt explosions behind his eyes. Breaking away, their eyes stayed closed, as they remained in each other’s arms. 

“Don’t die,” Draco mumbled against his lips, before tugging himself out of Cedric’s grasp.

)-(

The challengers lined up on the edge of the forest. For the last two trials, the spectators had been cheering loudly, but this time things were different. Each person there sensed an evil presence. The woods had been stocked with monsters for this trial. The rules were simple, go into the forest, kill a monster, and leave if you could. However, you had to kill a monster that was unfamiliar to your camp’s culture. For example, the Camp Half Blood kids couldn’t hunt Greek monsters.

The mix of different creatures gave off a sinister aura, like the woods now had teeth, like the trees had claws. No one wanted to enter the woods, but it was required for the trial, and Mr. Black threatened to throw in whoever didn’t voluntarily go in. As soon as the clock read 6, the challengers would be released. Yes, 6 in the evening. Not only would this make it more difficult to find and be prepared to fight a monster, but it would also be scary as hell. According to Cedric’s watch, there was one minute left. 

The seconds slowly ticked by. To his left, Cedric caught sight of Draco, who looked very nervous for someone not going into the forest. Cedric could see Draco mouth the words “Don’t die”. He nodded and gave his best attempt at a smile. It probably looked like he had gas, but he was very nervous and really didn’t want to die. He knew it was very possible, though, from the way Fleur and Viktor described their monsters. He checked his watch, knowing he didn’t have long. A few more seconds.

6 o’ clock. A conch horn sounded and Cedric ran into the forest. Soon he lost sight of the others and found himself completely alone. He didn’t feel alone, though. He felt like hundreds of eyes were watching his every move. Just to be safe, Cedric drew his sword. It didn’t make him feel much better, but it would help if a monster found him. 

Cedric started walking, making sure to look around for trouble. Suddenly, he heard something from a nearby bush. He walked towards it, raising his sword, preparing to strike. Nothing happened. _Probably a rabbit,_ Cedric told himself. Then he turned around and came face to face with a harpy. It screeched so loudly Cedric’s ears rang. Cedric raised his sword, just in time to see a spear fly past the harpy. It flew away, being chased by a kid from Camp Valhalla. She was whooping at the top of her lungs. After retrieving her spear, she sprinted past Cedric and deeper into the forest.

Cedric backed into a nearby tree and took a quick breather. He wasn’t quite ready to be attacked just yet. His ears still rang from the harpy and he just realized his arms were shaking. Just to top it all off, he began to feel hopeless, like he would never make it out of the forest. His breathing got faster and more shallow. Cedric was sure he was hyperventilating. He felt lightheaded and saw spots. _Calm down calm down calm down calm down,_ he told himself. It didn’t help. The corners of his vision began to fade to black. This only made Cedric feel worse. He began to feel himself slipping. Before he passed out, he saw a figure in the distance. It came towards him and raised an… arm maybe? Cedric couldn’t see. The last thing he thought was _I’m going to die._

)-(

Cedric woke up. It wasn’t much darker than it was when he met the harpy and passed out. Standing next to him was Fleur. She was chanting something and she held some sort of glowing boomerang. She stopped chanting when she saw he was awake.

“Good, you’re up,” she said. “Take deep breaths next time.” Then she ran into the bushes and out of sight.

“Thank… you.” Cedric called to her, though he was sure she couldn’t hear him. 

He looked at his surroundings. He was leaning against a tree, there was what looked like a cave to his left, and a dark group of trees to the right. He decided to go to the right. He heard there were dragons in the caves, and he had no idea what else was added recently that would have the strength to overpower the dragons and take the caves. Anyways, he slowly walked to the right, ready to kill. 

He heard a deep bellow coming from behind a rock formation behind copse of trees. His grip tightened on his sword. Cedric wasn’t going to faint this time, he would be ready, and he wasn’t going to let this monster live. 

Crashing through the tree came what looked like a combination of a moose and a rhino. It was larger than a bear, covered in scales, and sporting a moose’s head and antlers. It’s mouth was filled with sharp teeth. Viktor told him that this thing was called a bilgesnipe. They lived somewhere called Asgard and were very dangerous. That’s all he could remember, and the thing charging at him with startling speed didn’t help jog his memory. 

Before the beast could turn him into a grease spot, Cedric dove to the side. The bilgesnipe crashed into a tree and ripped it out of the ground, roots and all, while clearly not being deterred. It charged at him again, but Cedric was ready. He ran towards the beast, jumped over it, and aimed a strike downward. It connected, but the only thing he accomplished was shattering his sword. Then he felt his leg connect with the hard scales of the beast, and he tumbled to the ground. 

After picking himself up, Cedric knew he had very little chance of actually killing this thing. His muscles ached, he was pretty sure his right foot was broken, and his sword was not only shattered, but also landed about thirty feet away, behind the bilgesnipe. The bilgesnipe who he had attacked was now very angry. It was stomping its feet and letting out a low, guttural roar that shook the forest. Then it charged, antlers aimed at Cedric.

Cedric began to panic. He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid being bulldozed; his foot was killing him! He had no weapon, so another strike wasn’t an option, especially with seemingly impenetrable scales. That left charmspeak, but Cedric wasn’t sure. He had no idea if this creature was immune to magic, or had some of its own. What if it made it more mad, or simply didn’t work? He would be flattened, that’s what. 

As the bull charged, Cedric gave in to desperation. “STOP!” he shouted, putting all of his power and focus into the command. The beast’s legs stopped moving, but it was moving too fast to stop so soon. It tripped and slid, nearly bumping into Cedric.

Cedric was very relieved, but he could feel his control over the monster breaking. If he wanted to survive, he’d have to move fast. He eyed his sword hilt, still connected to some sharp, shattered metal. His plan was to sever his control over the beast, jump off it’s head and launch himself over to the hilt. It wasn’t a full plan, a well thought out plan, or a very good one, to be honest, but Cedric didn’t have another. He severed the connection and jumped from the beast to the sword.

The plan went well. The only hiccup being the excruciating pain of jumping off and landing on a broken foot, of course. The bilgesnipe quickly turned around to face Cedric and charged. Cedric forgot the plan and moved on pure instinct. He picked up the hilt, turned around, and drove the sharp metal into the beast’s mouth.

The beast kept running, but tripped, let out a roar of anguish, and crashed Cedric and itself into a tree. The pain from the sword wound, which had been driven deeper into the mouth from the crash, caused the beast to roar and whimper, until it eventually dissolved into a pool of shadow. All that was left was the shattered hilt, a massive antler, and Cedric, who had crashed hard and was passed out. 

When Cedric woke up, the sky was dark and the stars shone. He looked around, not entirely sure of what happened, but it all came back to him once he saw the antler and the broken sword. Overwhelmed with relief, Cedric laid back down and started to laugh. The sound was strange and echoed in the dark forest, so he quickly stopped. He had killed the beast, but he had to get out of the forest now. He tried to stand, but his foot sent searing pain through his leg. Somehow, he stood, his foot burning with agony and the rest of his body scraped and bruised. He found a long stick and used it on a cane. It didn’t help much, but Cedric didn’t care. He only cared about how he would get out of the forest before something found him.

And found him something did. Cedric heard a rustling sound behind him, in the trees. He turned around slowly, so as not to hurt his foot, and saw something very strange. It was a weird creature. It had the body of a lion, eagles wings, and most disturbingly, the face of a young woman. Cedric backed away. He knew what this was. Fleur told him. It was a sphinx. They were supposedly good, but could be violent if their riddles were answered incorrectly. This one seemed friendly, well not friendly, but it didn’t seem violent. It looked like it was studying him, and when the two made eye contact, Cedric could swear he felt the monster looking into his soul.

“Cedric Diggory,” the sphinx said, in a cold, clear voice. 

“Um, hi, uh, what’s your name?” Cedric asked. If there was any chance the creature wouldn’t attack, maybe being polite would make that chance higher?

“Answer me this riddle,” the sphinx said, ignoring the question. “A man walks into a room. In this order, he jumps off a building, the telephone rings, and he screams. Pray tell, why does this man scream?” 

Cedric was confused, and concussed, so he barely registered her words in time to make out the basic plot of the riddle.

“Um. . . ok. . . do I get any hints? I mean,” he chuckled, “I do have at least one head injury over here.” The sphinx regarded him for a moment, before responding that he was allowed two hints.

“Ok, ok. So, he went to commit suicde, the phone rang, and he screamed. Got it.” Racking his brain, he knew he heard something along the lines of that riddle many years earlier, but it was too fuzzy to keep a good grasp upon. 

“Am I allowed to ask questions, or would that be considered a hint?” “It would be a hint.” “Ok, in that case, I’m going to asume, not ask, assume, that the phone ringing is why it jumped. And since you said that it was in order, he didn't know why he was being called. . .”

He spent a good five minutes trying to figure out any part, taking apart the pieces and putting them back together, but none of it made sense.

“Ok, I would like my first hint.”

“Hmmmmm. . .” It tapped it’s claw against the ground, almost rolling it’s nails. “There is no one around.” Cedric was confused. “Around the building, his life, or. . .” he trailed off when seeing its smug expression. 

“Now now, Mr. Diggory, me answering that would be your last hint. Are you sure you want that answer?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

He decided to try to figure out what she meant by the man being alone. Alone in what way? That could be pulled any which way, but none of which made sense for him to scream at a phone call.

Unless. . .

What if the creature meant that there was no one around on the earth. He would’ve been the last person on the planet. But that meant whatever called him could or could not be human. So it would depend on what kind of scream he let out.

“I. . . I would like my second hint, please.”

It smirked. “My my, that was a bit quick, don’t you think? Well, it doesn’t matter to me.”

It adjusted, getting into a position that Cedric would relate to a lion being ready to pounce. “Would you like to ask a question, or get a hint in general?”

“Ask a question.”

“Very well.” Its eyes glinted. “What do you want?”

“Was the scream. . . fearful? As in,” he rushed out to clarify, “Was the caller. . . human?”

The sphinx now looked slightly disappointed. “Yes, the caller was human.”

“Ok, then. I - I figured it out!” the boy cried out cheerfully. “The man screamed because he thought he was the last man on earth, so when the phone rang after he committed suicide, he realized that he wasn’t the last man on earth, meaning he could’ve has company!”

The sphinx smiled, which looked very strange and wrong on it’s cold, severe face. “Well done, Cedric Diggory, you have answered correctly. As a reward, I shall lead you from the forest”.

“Oh, thank you!” Cedric said, grateful he wasn’t about to be attacked. 

The sphinx then disappeared into a pile of golden sand, which began to stir. Cedric knew what would happen next. He had seen it once before, when the Egyptians first entered the camp. Their weird sand portal things. Soon the sand turned into a swirling golden vortex, just big enough for Cedric to fit into. Without hesitation, he walked straight into the vortex, his vision faded to black, and he began to feel suffocated in the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, but we'll have longer chapters for the actual chapters, hope you like it anyway, and please stick around, 'cause we have a bunch more coming!


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